Beastly
by jeetjeet
Summary: In his seventh year at Hogwarts, the arrogant, bigoted, and narcissistic Draco Malfoy is appointed as Head Boy. After Draco plays a vicious prank on Millicent Bulstrode, he is then cursed by a spell that makes him as ugly as his soul. Further, if Draco does not find love within a year, he is doomed to that appearance forever. Draco/Hermione; Based off of the movie: "Beastly"
1. Best Embrace The Suck

I hope you guys enjoy this! This story takes place after HBP and is a slight AU seventh year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore _is_ alive, and Snape and Narcissa never made the Unbreakable Vow.

This story is based off the movie "Beastly" and does contain some dialogue directly from that movie, which I do not own. I also don't own the characters nor the setting- they belong to J.K. Rowling. Thank you!

* * *

Draco Malfoy was relishing in this moment. His Slytherin comrades were applauding and cheering enthusiastically for him. He had just been appointed Head Boy by Headmaster Dumbledore not fifteen minutes ago, and he had already dutifully thrown himself into the position. Well, at least into the position of being superior to everyone else. It's not like he hadn't already known he was superior, but now he had the title under his belt. He immediately went to announce his new calling at dinner to his fellow Slytherins.

He stood on the Slytherin bench in The Great Hall, stretching his arms wide to soak in the exaltation, which he believed he greatly deserved, as his inferiors sitting below him commended him over-zealously.

"Speech!" Blaise Zabini shouted with his hands cupping around his mouth. "Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech..." the students chanted. It echoed from the Slytherin side of the Great Hall and filled the whole room. Everyone in the room was watching now. Draco smugly smiled and nodded. He was only too happy to oblige in a speech. The Slytherins erupted in cheers as he accepted, and were quickly hushed as Draco put a finger to his lips to silence them.

Draco cleared his throat and spoke in a booming voice, "True or False: You are an aggressively unattractive person. Fatty-cakes, Snaggle-toothed...someone like Millicent Bulstrode."

The Slytherins burst with laughter, at the expense of Millicent's feelings. Malfoy patiently waited for the students to quiet down before he resumed his speech. "Or did you just miss the beauty boat? Any which way, best embrace the suck. Beautiful people get it better. That's just the way it is." The Slytherins cheered again at, apparently, such a rousing statement.

Millicent tried to block out the mayhem, which started when Malfoy entered the Great Hall, by sitting in her usual spot at the end of the table. But she couldn't help but snap up at the mention of her name. The girl tried to ignore the rudeness of her housemates, being used to this kind of ridicule, especially from Malfoy. However, she blushed with embarrassment at the comment. She turned her head away, again trying to block it out.

From the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger was absolutely appalled at her fellow Head Boy. She glared at him, furious that he was so quick to be bullying people while boosting his already lofty ego , and completely going against model-student Head Boy behavior. She was just with him when he was appointed, as she was being appointed Head Girl. However, she did _not_ sprint into the Great Hall exclaiming about her new position to her housemates. She did _not_ , quite literally, put herself up on a pedestal and demand acclamation from her fellow students, unlike Malfoy. She preferred to keep it quiet. Yes, her house knew that she was the new Head Girl, but she did not require a celebration. She believed that there was no point in receiving such praise when she hadn't done anything _of_ praise yet. That, and she was all too modest to ever elevate herself in Malfoy's fashion.

Hermione gagged at what Malfoy was saying. It was so shallow, it was almost humorous, even for Malfoy. She did feel bad for Millicent. She had always been a victim of Malfoy and his posse's tormenting. Malfoy just wasn't satisfied enough from harassing people, specifically Muggle-borns, outside of his own house. So he turned to Slytherin, seeked out people he deemed unworthy, and turned his oppression toward them. The bullying of Millicent had gone on for years, though it quieted down a bit last year. This was mostly due to the fact that Draco Malfoy was under the influence of Voldemort, and was busy carrying out his plan of letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts and assassinating Dumbledore. Millicent openly accused Malfoy of being a Death Eater in the middle of last year. With Malfoy being in the state that he was, he could not act out against her, for he was in fear that he would reveal himself. He did promise her, though, that she would regret the day she accused him, and she would pay dearly.

Draco hushed his housemates again, to continue his speech, "So, what does this have to do with being appointed as the new Head Boy? Not much, except you'll never respect me because of my commitment to Hogwarts; I don't have one."

The Slytherins laughed as Hermione gasped, and snapped her head towards the northern part of the room where the professor's table was at. She looked for any sort of disapproving facial expression from Headmaster Dumbledore, and was disappointed to find none. She was then shocked to see that he was intently listening and watching Malfoy without making any sort of interruption. Hermione was already shocked at how Dumbledore appointed Malfoy, of all students, to be Head Boy. Yes, he exceeded in his classes, and obviously had a good connection with his housemates, but he was simply a bully. And a bully should never be Head Boy. Hermione huffed, and then turned back to Malfoy as he continued.

"But should you respect because I'm a rich, good-looking," Draco glanced at Hermione, " _pureblood_ guy?" He paused, waiting for an answer.

Pansy Parkinson and Blaise relieved him by shouting in unison, "Hell yeah!"

Draco simply grinned as his entire house stood up and cheered for him. He scanned the sea of Slytherin faces, pleased to see that all of them were shouting with praise. Well, not all of them. Draco's eyes flickered to the exit out of the Great Hall to see Millicent Bulstrode scowling at him. She was looking at him with such loathing and anger, it almost frightened him. When he met her eyes, she hissed as she violently pushed open the doors and left the room. He winced at the heavy impact of the doors, but then turned to his adoring housemates and nodded with a smile. He stepped down from the bench and sat down with Pansy and Blaise, trying to forget the image of Millicent's vindictive expression.

Across the room, Hermione was glaring at him. She already knew Malfoy was a narcissistic prat, but this had fully proved it. And what the Hell was that glance to her before he snarkily said, "pureblood"? She sighed and rubbed her forehead, knowing exactly what it was. He was still as bigoted as ever. Hermione knew this all too well from years of Malfoy ridiculing and calling her a "mudblood".

"What an arsehole, but it's not like we didn't know it," Ginny Weasley began, while grabbing a roll from a bread basket, "I mean, the whole 'beautiful people' thing was a bit ridiculous and very condescending, even for Malfoy, but I can't say I'm surprised at the display."

"It doesn't mean that it was necessary," Seamus Finnigan grunted to the redhead next to Hermione from across the table.

"According to Malfoy, it is _completely_ necessary," Ginny responded.

Neville Longbottom then chimed in, "It's not like his head isn't already full enough after that night in the astronomy tower." This got Hermione's attention. She turned to Neville with a puzzled look.

Neville explained himself, "He's been going around proclaiming himself as some savior for not killing Dumbledore."

Seamus guffawed, "That makes about as much sense as a serial killer deciding not to murder someone, and then calling himself a bloody hero!"

"He _would_ find some way to turn that event to his favor. I'm surprised that he's even still allowed to attend Hogwarts, let alone being the blooming Head Boy," Ginny remarked.

"I just want to know what happened in that astronomy tower to cause him to yield from killing Professor Dumbledore," Neville quietly mused.

Seamus frustratingly grumbled, "Well I just want to know who gave him the right to be so pompous and give a speech about how he only wants to be Head Boy to boost his own ego, and why Dumbledore did nothing about it! I mean he bloody said that he doesn't care about Hogwarts, and Dumbledore didn't bat an eye!"

Hermione didn't hear what Seamus said because she was still thinking about what Neville said just before. Why did Malfoy yield? Was it out of fear, pity, or something else? And why did he still feel obligated to be supercilious and conceited? If anything, the attitude had gotten worse. Hermione would think that after that night, he would be more than humbled. Especially since he and his mother were shown mercy and spared by the ministry. His mother was even offered protection at a safe house. Could Malfoy's narcissistic exterior have been some sort mask or facade to hide something?

Hermione slowly turned her eyes across the room to look at Malfoy. He was laughing with Pansy, his girlfriend, and Blaise. Malfoy looked as happy and haughty as ever, but Hermione could tell he was a bit... off. His face exclaimed smugness and pride, yet his eyes spoke of something else. Pain? Uneasiness? Or perhaps-

"Hermione!" the three other Gryffindors shouted. Hermione jumped, suddenly interrupted from her deep thoughts.

"Do you often look at Malfoy like you're reading about Ancient Runes?" Seamus teased. Hermione blushed- though she didn't know why- and then swatted Seamus in the head.

"Ow!" Seamus exclaimed, rubbing his temple. "Was that necessary?"

"More than necessary," Hermione deadpanned. She then turned toward the other two, "Sorry, I wasn't listening. What were you saying?"

Ginny turned from laughing at Seamus to answer, "We were just wondering if you were going to ask Dumbledore about it."

"About what?" Hermione was simply dazed.

"About Malfoy's 'rousing' speech this morning. It was very un-Head Boy-ish, and Dumbledore did nothing about it." Neville used his fingers as air quotes on "rousing". Hermione laughed. She agreed that his speech on being "aggressively unattractive" and "missing the beauty boat" was hardly inspiring.

"I mean you're the Head Girl. You have every right to ask him about stuff like this," Seamus added, still rubbing the spot where Hermione hit him.

Hermione nodded. Seamus was right! She was the Head Girl! And appointed by Dumbledore himself, nonetheless! It wouldn't be tattle tailing, just asking out of curiosity. Hermione said, "Okay, I'll ask. But after dinner in his office. I'd hate to cause a scene."

"Unlike some people," Ginny said while cocking her head at Malfoy. Hermione's eyes followed the motion to look at Malfoy. She again began studying him. He was still laughing with Pansy and Blaise. She slowly became bewitched by the way he laughed. He lifted one eyebrow to show amusement and then both eyebrows the moment he began laughing. He leaned back, eyes squinted shut, and his body began shaking with laughter. What Blaise said must have been particularly funny.

Ginny tapped her on the shoulder and said something, but Hermione didn't notice. She was too distracted by Malfoy. After she studied his laughter, she started to examine the way he held Pansy's hand. His hand was on top of hers, and she saw how his thumb gently caressed the back of her hand in a circular motion. Hermione looked down and blushed; she was subconsciously imitating the same motion with her own hands. She looked up again to see Malfoy's unoccupied hand lightly scratching Pansy's back. This caused Malfoy's shoulder and part of his chest to press against Pansy. Hermione's heart rate increased. Pansy seemed so sheltered, so protected by Malfoy. Hermione was then practically entranced by the way Malfoy turned and looked at Pansy. His left corner of his mouth rose slightly and his lips slowly parted to reveal a toothy, crooked smile. A smile that said everything without saying anything. Hermione's stomach lurched and was suddenly filled with butterflies. She read the expression of affection and admiration just from his smile.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what it was like to be held and looked at like that. To be cocooned in someone's embrace, knowing that this person will keep you safe and comfort you. To be the reason someone smiles, and they don't have to say the words, "I love you," because their expression is already saying it. It seemed perfect until Hermione looked at Malfoy's eyes.

His gray irises evoked something so different from the rest of his body. His eyes didn't read of love. His eyes read the same thing that Hermione saw the last time she was studying Malfoy, before she was interrupted by her friends. She recognized it, but she couldn't place it. Discomfort? Worry? Or maybe his eyes were telling the truth. The truth which is what his body was doing does not match what he was truly feeling. It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole; no matter how hard you try, it will not ever fit. Was this some sort of mask to hide the true Malfoy? This, and his deep narcissism, some sort of facade to prevent himself from being exposed? Hermione was lost in his eyes until they flickered to her own.

When Malfoy met her gaze, Hermione's breath suddenly jumped. Her body did the same as she quickly looked away. She then suddenly noticed that all of her friends were gone. She groaned, and threw her head on the table. That's why Ginny was trying to get her attention; they were leaving her to stare at Malfoy some more. She looked to the professor's tale and noticed that Dumbledore was gone. Hermione stood up and walked to the exit of the Great Hall. Before she exited, she subconsciously tried to steal one more glance at Malfoy. She was surprised to find him already looking at her. She jumped again as she met his eyes, and quickly exited, blushing furiously.

What was he, some kind of Veela?! Why was she suddenly obsessed with learning the inner workings of Draco Malfoy? She couldn't care less about him the past six years , so why now? He was even more a bully now than before, and the extra arrogance this year didn't help. Hermione sighed as she walked to Dumbledore's office. She really should mind her own business, but she really wanted to know why Dumbledore didn't interfere with Malfoy's Head Boy speech. He openly spoke out against Hogwarts. She also wanted to know why Dumbledore _chose_ Malfoy as Head Boy in the first place.

Hermione stood outside of the Headmaster's office and spoke the password. She walked up the revealed stairs and saw Dumbledore at his desk reading a book.

"Ah, Miss Granger!" Dumbledore said without taking his eyes off the book, "I've been expecting you."

* * *

Draco watched as Granger pushed through the doors furiously. He knew she had been staring at him for the longest time. He saw with his peripheral vision at how she was intently looking at him. He wondered why. It was probably because she was upset with him being the Head Boy and they would have to work together. Hey, he hated it as much as her! He would now have to be at least civil with the mudblood, but at the same time she would have to be civil with him. Still, it was odd how she stared at him. She was practically studying him for dissection, and he was afraid she would pick him apart and learn his inner mind.

Looking at the door, though, he remembered the way Millicent looked at him before she exited. He tried to shake off the thought and was angry that it made him so nervous. He stood up to leave as Blaise and Pansy did the same. The three walked out of the Great Hall, with Blaise and Pansy still raving about his speech.

"Palm of your hand, mate! Palm of your hand!" Blaise exclaimed as he slapped Draco on the back.

"They were practically eating out of it!" Pansy said, grabbing a hold of Draco's hand. "The speech killed!" Blaise and Pansy were desperately trying to keep up with Draco. He was walking with a vengeance toward the dungeons, and they could tell he was upset.

"Speaking of killing, you see that flabby-assed, plug-ugly, slag?" Draco was referring to Millicent of course. He was furious and felt like breaking something. Specifically her.

"Oh, Millicent?" Blaise made a "pfft" sound with his lips. "Really, who gives, okay? Just stick to my mantra: 'steer clear of the witch'. "

Pansy stopped Draco and said with a wink, "I'll put her out of your head later." Draco smirked and bent down to kiss Pansy goodbye before she ran off to talk to Daphne Greengrass.

Draco and Blaise continued walking to the Slytherin common room, but they were suddenly both hit with a piece of parchment in the face. Draco fiercely grabbed the parchment from his face to look at it. On the parchment was a childish, mocking, cartoon drawing of Draco. There was a speech bubble forming from the cartoon's mouth and inside it read, "Don't embrace the suck!"

Draco ripped the parchment and threw it on the ground with an angry grunt. "Ooh littering. Hardly Head Boy behavior."

Draco looked up to see Millicent smiling with copies of the parchment levitating around her. Of course, _she_ was the culprit. Whenever a student walked by, Millicent flicked her wand and a copy of the drawing threw itself to the student. Draco looked around to see copies of the drawing under a levitation charm, floating around the dungeons and the inside of the Slytherin common room. This obscene drawing was being advertised to the whole Slytherin house!

He looked back to Millicent, fuming. Before he could express his ire, Millicent spoke again, fanning the flame, "Maybe it's just me, but shouldn't the Head Boy of Hogwarts actually care about _Hogwarts_?"

Draco was thinking of some response, some mind-blowingly hurtful thing to say. What he got out was, "Or _be_ a hog like the rest of your facially-disabled coven."

Millicent snorted, "Come now Draco, that's the best you could do?"

Draco winced, and accosted her with a slight swagger. He tried to appear collected and unbothered. Millicent continued, "Anyway, I think I can speak for the rest of the school and say that we're hoping your Slytherin bandwagoners will stop fearing for their social lives, and stand up to you."

"Oh, so I take it that you're not one of my bandwagoners, though you're in Slytherin house?" Draco replied, trying to appear unfazed.

Millicent laughed, "Oh, Draco. I thought you had to be academically excellent to be Head Boy. I guess Headmaster Dumbledore made an exception."

Draco cleared his throat at the insult, and said back coolly, "Come now, Millicent. that's the best you could do?" Millicent raised an eyebrow, and Draco smiled. He signaled for Blaise, and they both proceeded into the common room. But the sound of Millicent's voice stopped them in their tracks,

"Oh, and might I just add," Draco turned around to face Millicent. "Wow, looks are important to you."

"They're important to everyone. Except you, clearly," Draco replied smugly.

Millicent just snickered and started to walk away. Draco turned around, and his face was hit with another copy of the cartoon. He violently grabbed it and yelled to Millicent, "As Head Boy, I demand you dispose of this trash!" Millicent seamlessly took out her wand and flicked it. All of the pieces of parchment flew themselves over to Millicent and into her arms. She continued walking away uninterrupted.

* * *

"You were expecting me, Headmaster?" Hermione asked, puzzled, as she entered the room.

Dumbledore closed the book he was reading. "Yes, I was." Dumbledore stood up and walked into the sitting area. "And I know that you are looking for clarification," Dumbledore said, motioning to an arm chair.

Hermione sat in the arm chair nervously. She did have every right to ask him these questions she had, but were they out of line?

"I know what you're thinking," Dumbledore said.

Hermione tried to begin, "I just-"

Dumbledore interrupted, "I know that you want to know why I appointed him Head Boy."

Hermione tried again, "And-"

"And why I didn't stop him this evening in the Great Hall,"

"But-" Dumbledore put up his hand to stop her. Hermione sighed. She knew she shouldn't be questioning his judgment. But all of this was very unusual, and she had to know.

Dumbledore began, "Listen, Hermione. I know he doesn't fit the usual mold for Head Boy. And I know this sounds odd, but Draco needs this. I know, given his history, he would probably abuse his power as Head Boy to further terrorize students."

Dumbledore paused, and Hermione nodded in agreement.

He continued, "But I believe that this position will give him what he needs to redeem himself. Giving him these responsibilities will further his character."

Dumbledore paused again, waiting for Hermione to answer.

"But sir," Hermione started, "how can he develop his character if he doesn't see the consequences of his actions? He must be reprimanded if there is any hope for him!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. He needs to see things on his own."

"But he won't! Especially since he is Head Boy!"

"Miss. Granger-"

She stood up angrily. "Draco Malfoy is a narcissistic git, who gets off on tormenting innocent students, especially Muggle-borns like me. He has for six years! Making him Head Boy won't change that! I can't help but wonder that you did this because you feel obligated to repay him for-" Hermione stopped herself before saying, "sparing you on the astronomy tower." She knew she spoke out of line. She sat down again, feeling guilty. "I- I'm sorry. That went too far,"

Dumbledore sighed, "Don't apologize. Many, even the staff, have accused me of that too. I do not blame them. But I do have my reasons. I cannot tell you everything, but I can tell you this: One reason I chose him to be Head Boy is because I chose you for Head Girl."

Hermione leaned forward slightly, listening intently.

"I've been watching you both for six years, and you two have a remarkable connection." Hermione actually laughed out loud at the statement. She then quickly tried to cover it up with coughs as Dumbledore gave her a serious look. She nodded once her coughing fit ended, and Dumbledore continued.

"It's remarkable because you two are so different, yet you keep each other going. He lives off of bickering, you in particular, yet you ignore it. If anything, it hardens your skin. Mr. Malfoy sees this, and he pushes harder to break you. Yet, he has constantly failed. Unknown to Mr. Malfoy, every time you ignore him or push back, your ideals are planted in his mind. Tell me, what are some names he calls you?"

Hermione was taken aback, but it didn't take long to answer, "'Mudblood', 'ugly'-"

Dumbledore stopped her, "When you ignore him calling you a 'mudblood', you teach him that you think blood status is not important. When you ignore him calling you 'ugly', you teach him that you think appearances don't matter. If _you_ don't care about these things, why should he?"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "Sir, I don't think he's learned anything."

"Oh, but he has. It's a cycle that has started the moment you two met. After six years of this cycle, layers of Mr. Malfoy have peeled off to reveal more about him. He only fights harder because he knows that he is being exposed, and he does not want that. Miss. Granger, I'm afraid you make Draco Malfoy vulnerable,"

Hermione didn't know why, but she blushed. She looked to her feet, trying to hide her red face. Could she really have had such an effect on Draco Malfoy? Was she the only one that really has ever exposed him?

She was so lost in thought she almost didn't hear Dumbledore say, "However, since that night on the astronomy tower he has put on new armor. His narcissism and selfish disdain for the feelings of others have increased tenfold. This is very likely because he was more vulnerable than he has ever been on that astronomy tower. He was most vulnerable when he lowered his wand that was pointed at me and defended me from the Death Eaters. Now with a broken family, lost connections, and a target on him from Voldemort, it only makes sense that he is more guarded than ever."

Hermione was shocked to hear this. Draco Malfoy not only didn't kill Dumbledore, but defended him? He did this, knowing that Voldemort would take revenge against him. And not only him, but his family too. Hermione was so moved, and she suddenly understood why he acted the way he did today. She also understood what she saw in his eyes today; his gray eyes that spoke of something different from what the rest of his body was saying. They were full fear for himself, fear for his family, and fear of vulnerability.

"Now you see why I cannot interfere," Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore again, "for if I interfere, I may break the cycle that you two have started. And you already have done much today."

Hermione just looked at him, confused.

Dumbledore smiled. "I saw the way he looked at you when he said, 'pureblood'. And I saw the way you looked at him, trying to figure him out," He paused. "And I also saw the way he looked at you when you weren't looking. He was scared that you, again, made him vulnerable."

Hermione's stomach filled with butterflies again, and she literally giggled. Again, she didn't know why. Dumbledore gave her a quizzical look, and she tried to calm herself down. Oh Merlin, what was Malfoy doing to her?!

Hermione cleared her throat and stood up. "Thank you, Headmaster. I again am sorry if I offended."

"Not at all," Dumbledore said, motioning her towards the door.

Before she left, Hermione had one more question, "Headmaster, why did Harry and Ron leave to look for Horcruxes without me?"

She felt herself choke up as she asked the question. Her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, were both tasked to search for and destroy Voldemort's horcruxes by the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione was also tasked by the Order, but neither Harry nor Ron let her come and she didn't know why. She couldn't help but feel abandoned, and she knew that Dumbledore would have the answers, if anyone. Hermione watched the Headmaster make a sad expression, and then turn around to go to his desk and return with several envelopes tied together with string. Dumbledore handed them to her saying, "I wish I could tell you, my dear. But these might help." Hermione looked down at the envelopes. Her heart skipped a beat as she read that they were letters from Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

* * *

Draco was furious. The slag, Millicent, was just asking for it! He still remembered the way she called him out last year. He promised her revenge, and she was going to get it.

Blaise grabbed Draco's shoulders and put him in an armchair, trying to calm him down. "I told you, mate. Steer clear of the witch!" Blaise said while plopping himself on the couch.

"Well, I can't bloody do that! She's always around!"

"At least you kept your cool. If she'd stayed longer, though, I thought you would attack her."

"I wanted to," Draco said. He threw his head back on the arm chair and rubbed his temples with frustration. He knew he couldn't though. If he did, he could kiss his position of Head Boy and his mother's protection goodbye. He was walking a thin line already, with the whole Death Eater disaster last year. Especially since his father was still a loyal follower of Voldemort. He was completely at the mercy of Dumbledore. One slip up, and it could be horrible what could happen to him, and his mother.

"Don't worry, Draco. She will pay."

"She had better."

After a minute of thought, Blaise was suddenly jolted with an idea. "So, you can't do anything to her directly?" Blaise started.

Draco made an assuring grunt.

"But I bet you could do something to her _indirectly_."

Draco sat up and leaned over with his elbows on his thighs, making fists under hands to lean on. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we give this bitch what's coming to her."

Draco smiled. "I'm listening."


	2. Skin Deep

_Dear Hermione,_

 _We're still at the Burrow. We've been trying to gather intel on the real locket. Tomorrow, we're going to try and break into the Ministry and see what we can find. We've made the Polyjuice potion, though we don't know if we did it right. Ron made it, so it's 60/40 chance we did. (The 40 being the chance we **did**_ _do it right)._

 _We always knew with you, though! You always made it perfectly. We still miss you desperately. I know you're angry that you didn't come with us, and by now even more angry because we haven't given you a straight answer yet, and probably Dumbledore hasn't either. Just know that we're sorry. This is to protect you._

 _Anyway, the Weasleys send their love and we do too. Please write back and send your letter with Hedwig and send your patronus ahead of her to let us know you're safe. Hopefully, this letter will get to you before tomorrow because walking around the Ministry with an otter swimming around us will likely bring attention. I love you, and tell Ginny I love her too._

 _-Harry_

 _P.S. : I love Ginny more! Piss off Harry, I'm her bloody brother! Oh, and I love you too Hermione._

 _-Ron_

It was 2 A.M, and Hermione sat at her desk in her room reading the latest letter from Harry and Ron. Each letter was an account of what they did that day. It usually was just them jumping from safe house to safe house and looking for any leads, but it was always comforting to Hermione to know what they were doing. It almost felt like she was actually there with them. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and her vision was blurred. She silently thanked Merlin that the Head Girl and Head Boy had their own rooms, for she was whimpering the whole night.

"Dammit," Hermione whispered as her eyes became watery and a lump formed in her throat. Not again! Hermione hated crying. At least in front of people. She believed it showed weakness. She tried to blink away the tears before they spilled, but to no avail. She put her face in her hands and cried once more. She terribly missed her two best friends. They were family to her, and she felt so alone at Hogwarts without them. Yes, she had Ginny, Neville, and Seamus... well not really Seamus...but she felt out of place without Ron and Harry.

Their letters didn't explain much except that they kept repeating over, and over, "We're sorry. This is to protect you." She hypothesized that at least one of the three had to keep an eye on Hogwarts, and Hermione was the best candidate. This gave her a little comfort, but it was still not the confirmed reason. Hermione hated being in the dark, and she hated that people kept things from her when it would be so much easier if she just knew.

She looked over at the picture frame on her desk. It was of the three of them, laughing in what seems to look like the kitchen at the Burrow. She completely forgot who took the picture, or what they were even laughing about. But they were together, and they were happy nonetheless. She sighed and got out a new piece of parchment and wrote a letter. She then walked over to the windowsill where Hedwig's cage was at. She let Hedwig out and gently placed the letter in between Hedwig's talons. The Snowy owl immediately flew into the night sky as the window opened. Hermione pointed her wand out the window and whispered, "Expecto patronum". An ethereal otter came out her wand and rapidly swam across the horizon. The memory she thought of? The one in the picture frame. She didn't know when or why they were happy- all that mattered was that they _were._

* * *

It was Charms class, and Draco had never been more excited for it. For he sat right next to Millicent Bulstrode. Usually, he despised this class, for obvious reasons, and also for Professor Flitwick's ridiculous voice. But today Draco looked forward to it because today he would plant the seed for revenge.

Blaise's plan was fool-proof , it was so simple. The Slytherins were having a party in the common room, and all Draco had to do was ask Millicent out to the party, and then Blaise would do the rest. Being the Head Boy, Draco had to simply turn a blind eye to what was happening. See no evil, hear no evil right? If the Head Boy never saw it, it never happened.

Millicent was taking notes next to him. It was time to charm the hell out of this girl. _And what better class to do it in than Charms?_ Draco actually giggled out loud at his own internal pun. Millicent glanced at him sideways with a puzzled look. Draco cleared his throat. Showtime.

Draco took out a piece of parchment and wrote on it. He smoothly slipped it under Millicent's hand. She whipped her head towards him with an annoyed expression. Draco signaled with eyes, glancing back and forth between Millicent and the note. She sighed and read the note, _Hey, I'm really sorry about the other day._

Millicent wrote back. She slid the parchment back to Draco. It read, _Is "bullshit" one word, or two?_

Draco smiled and wrote, _No it's not, and I want to make it up to you. Listen, there's a party in the Slytherin common room tonight. I know you never go to those but I want you to come. Are you in?_

As Millicent read it, her face scrunched up. She wrote, _What's the catch?_

 _No catch._

Millicent hesitantly scratched down, _So... I'd be going with_ _you?_ She looked up at Draco for confirmation. He crookedly smiled and then nodded. She blushed a bit. Draco noticed and smiled even wider. This was going to work flawlessly.

 _What about your girlfriend?_

 _She dumped me last night._

Millicent squinted at Draco. He simply smiled back and threw a wink. She slowly turned towards the parchment and wrote, _Look, I don't know what game this is but I'll play._

 _Really?_

 _Everyone deserves a second chance. Besides, you know what people say about me, don't you?_

 _Vicious gossip._ Draco grimaced the moment he passed the parchment back. Like that wasn't obvious. It was way too out of character.

Millicent smiled and wrote, _Well only idiots screw with fatty-cake, snaggle-toothed witches._

Class was dismissed and he watched Millicent glide out of the classroom

Draco gathered his things and filed out to see Blaise and Pansy waiting for him. "Well?..." Blaise asked him.

Draco smirked and replied, "The witch took the bait."

* * *

Hermione saw Pansy, Blaise, and Malfoy outside of the Charms classroom. It was lunch, and that meant it was time for her meeting with the Head Boy. They were supposed to meet in their shared office right after class. Hermione was on her way but was distracted seeing the Head Boy quite _not_ on the way to their office. She was watching him from the first landing of the staircase, waiting to see if he'll remember and start heading on his way. She was getting increasingly irritated by the second. She started tapping her foot, and she glanced at her watch.

She grunted when she saw that in two minutes she would be late. Well, in two minutes is when the meeting should start. But "on-time" for Hermione was "early". She became frustrated that the only other person who was to be at that meeting was acting like it was a social hour! She was about to call out his name until she heard the splitting sound of hand on flesh.

Hermione gasped as she saw Malfoy clutch his face after being slapped by his girlfriend. The sound reverberated throughout the hall, and now everyone's head turned to see the source. Pansy started wailing at Malfoy. Hermione couldn't quite make out what she was saying over her crying except, "slag", "take her", and "prick". Pansy slapped him again and then ran away in tears. Hermione would never admit it, but she was happy that Malfoy didn't chase after her.

Hermione glanced at her watch. Dammit! She turned and sprinted up the stairs to the office.

* * *

"Why on Earth would you ask that _slag_ , and not _me,_ your bloody girlfriend?!" Pansy screeched at Draco. He was gingerly rubbing his hand on his left cheek. He felt indents where her long, polished fingernails scratched him. Thankfully he wasn't bleeding, yet.

"We told you, Pansy! This about payback!" Blaise tried to calm Pansy down, but she was having none of it.

"But did you have to take her?! Could you not have just simply invited her and taken me instead?"

"No!" Draco yelled, "No because I told her we broke up." Draco braced himself, and rightfully so.

"YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK!" Pansy slapped him again, harder than before. Draco was definitely bleeding now. Pansy ran away crying.

Draco placed a hand on his cheek and winced at the contact. He inspected his bloodstained hand as he felt the warm liquid drip into the corner of his mouth. "Shite!" Draco growled.

Blaise reached out to him. "Let's go get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Draco shoved him away. "No. Go get Pansy. I need to be somewhere. I'll see you later."

"What-"

"Head Boy stuff- just go, Blaise." Draco briskly walked away before Blaise could say anything else. It's not that he _wanted_ to go to the meeting, he just didn't want to talk to Blaise anymore. It hadn't even been the first semester and he managed to ruin his relationship with Pansy. He'd hate it if he did the same with his friendship with Blaise. With his father a Death Eater, and his mother a fugitive, Pansy and Blaise were all he had.

Draco pushed open the office door and saw Granger sitting at her desk writing on a piece of parchment. She flipped her head towards the door and tried to hold back her laughter. He just silently went to sit down in an armchair. He rolled his eyes for he could hear Granger's hitched breath, still trying to conceal her snickers.

Draco glared at her. "I mean, does it suck so bad?"

"No! It's badass," Hermione said, letting out a chuckle. She then stood up and grabbed her wand.

Draco knew that she saw the whole thing with Pansy. He huffed, "You don't have to lie."

"I wasn't." She approached him and held her wand to his face.

He snatched her wrist. "And don't do me any favors."

"Again, I wasn't. I just don't want any blood on the carpet. It's just a simple healing spell."

Draco slowly let go of her wrist. His eyes met hers as she gently placed her left hand on his uninjured cheek and placed her thumb just under his bottom lip for leverage. Draco surprised himself, as he did not resist her. She looked away as she carefully took her right hand with her wand to his left cheek. A warm, yellow light emitted from the wand and it soothed his injured cheek. His blood slowly evaporated, as well as the pain.

"Good as new," Granger said, putting her wand down. She suddenly let out a soft laugh. He noticed how she scrunched up her nose and her dark gold curls bounced whenever she laughed at him. "You know it's funny, " she said, her delicate hand still holding Draco's face in place. Draco noticed, but he did not flinch away, nor did he silently wish she'd let go.

 _What the hell are you doing, Draco?_ His thought process stopped short as Hermione lightly traced the scars of the cut with her other hand.

"Your _pureblood_ looks exactly like my _mudblood,_ " she cooed. When her hands left his face, a cold rush swept over his cheeks in their place.

 _Again, what the **hell** are you doing, Draco?! _ He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Right, let's get this started," he suggested, motioning towards the conference table.

* * *

The two discussed schedules for rounds around the school, solutions for tardy students, and other important matters. Hermione was shocked at how civilly they planned everything they needed to without once getting into a fight. Malfoy noticed. "I don't think I've ever gone this long without calling you a mudblood."

Hermione snorted, "Well, you just did." She shuffled her papers and put them in her desk. "At least it's a new record," she noted.

Malfoy stood up and stretched. "Oh, I also noticed that I haven't congratulated you on Head Girl. I should probably do that," Malfoy pointed out.

She scoffed as she sat on the conference table, "Yes you _probably_ should. But I'll take your mere acknowledgment as a 'congratulations'."

The two went quiet again as they both stared at the carpet. Hermione was thinking about that fight with Pansy, and she desperately wanted to know what happened. Would it be too nosey to ask? It was almost a minute of silence until Hermione softly asked, "What happened with Pansy?"

Hermione noticed how Malfoy's jaw clenched. "Why do you care?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Curiosity."

"Well, we are _not_ friends, Granger. So I'm sorry if I don't start spouting out my life story willy-nilly," Malfoy barked.

Hermione flinched. She muttered a soft "sorry" without a hint of irony. She really was just curious. She stole a sideways glance at him and saw that he was staring at her intently.

He breathed out, "She was upset that I didn't invite her to go with me to the party in the Slytherin common room," She looked up at him, with an expression that told him to go on, "and I asked someone else to go with me."

Hermione just started laughing. Malfoy looked at her incredulously. "What in the bloody hell is so funny?"

"You!" She answered, pointing to him.

"Me?!"

"Yes! And Pansy too!" She kept laughing until she calmed down to explain herself, "You two are so superficial! How does something so little, that could easily be solved with a simple explanation, turn into a huge fight?"

He tried to form a thought, " I-"

She interrupted, "What do you know about Pansy?"

"She's pretty, and comes from a pureblood family. What else is there to know?"

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "Merlin! There's plenty to know! Her likes, dislikes, favorite color, favorite food, et cetera! You know, if you knew anything about Pansy and she knew anything about you, this fight wouldn't have happened."

Hermione got down from the table and walked toward him saying, " _You_ would've known that she's sensitive to these kinds of things, and _she_ would've known that you really didn't mean to hurt her."

"Well, what does it matter? She's a pureblood and easy on the eyes. That's all that's important."

Hermione stopped walking and gasped in disgust. "Are you honestly that shallow?"

He winced and then walked towards _her_ now. "Well, I don't know how you mudbloods do it, but all that _we_ are expected to do is marry another pureblood, and continue the line. That's _it._ Purebloods don't have time for _feelings._ "

"Not even _love_?" Hermione blurted out. Her body betrayed her as blood rushed into her cheeks. She looked down at the ground to hide her chagrin. Hermione could feel Malfoy's eyes staring through her. She only hoped to Merlin that he couldn't see how she felt when she was around him. What was once hatred turned into something Granger couldn't quite place.

"I can't afford love. There's no hope for me Granger," Malfoy scoffed with irritation. Hermione looked up into his gray eyes. She again saw that fear that was ever present in his irises. The fear of being exposed and defenseless.

Hermione thought about what Dumbledore said, _Miss. Granger, I'm afraid you make Draco Malfoy vulnerable_. Could that possibly be true? And could she be leaving Draco Malfoy vulnerable right now? She quietly replied, "Everyone can afford it. And everyone can afford hope, too. Even for themselves." It was Hermione's turn to stare into Malfoy.

He shifted, and then filled the silence, "What about you? Looks don't matter to you?" He continued to walk closer, mere inches away from her face.

Hermione's stomach lurched, and her pulse accelerated as he got dangerously close to her lips. "What can I say? I'm substance over style," she hummed.

* * *

"Well, I- er," Draco was stumbling over his words. He lost all sense of cognition looking into her chocolate eyes. He felt like such a barmy idiot. But then he instantly remembered who she was and who _he_ was. "Thanks for the sermon, mudblood," he hissed caustically. Draco immediately turned around and left the office without another word.

Shame shot through his stomach each step he took. He had called Granger a mudblood countless times before, and he had never been plagued by a guilty conscience. But why was he feeling it now? He actually felt sorry. It was something about her in that office. She seemed to see right through him and then know everything about him. He felt vulnerable. Perhaps that was what made him lash out. Draco still groaned in annoyance because he still didn't know why he had the urge to apologize to her.

He walked into the Great Hall and scanned for his friends. He cursed under his breath at the reminder that not an hour ago, he cocked everything up. Surprisingly, he saw Blaise waving him over with Pansy. Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion as he walked cautiously over to the Slytherin table. He sat down next to Pansy as Blaise sat across from him.

"Your face looks better," Blaise observed.

Draco touched his left cheek and said, "Granger took care of it."

Blaise's eyes widened. "Uh-huh," he muttered.

Draco eyed Pansy from the side, looking for any sign of her being upset. He found her to have no emotion. She looked almost bored. He would've brought the situation up, but he wanted to spare Blaise the awkwardness.

Instead, he asked him, "How are we looking, for tonight?"

"Great," Blaise responded slowly. He looked back and forth between Pansy and Draco. He could've cut the tension with a butter knife.

Blaise continued," Your part is done. Let's just hope the witch really comes."

"Oh, she will. The slag is practically in love with me." Draco saw Pansy's hand ball into a fist in her lap.

"Alright, it's all set! Leave the rest to me, mate. I know you can't _be_ there for it, but you should camp out a way's away, and watch the show."

Draco looked at Blaise, trying to signal him to leave. Blaise got the drift and then announced he needed to use the loo. He stood up and walked out of the Great Hall. Draco stared at Pansy, trying to think of what to say. Her body was almost completely facing away from him. Though her expression didn't show it, she was angry.

"Listen, Pansy. I'm so-"

"You know what? Just forget about it." Pansy turned to face Draco. "I've been thinking about it, and we honestly should just forget it ever happened."

Draco raised both eyebrows in surprise. "You don't want to talk about it at all?"

"No." Pansy was incredibly content.

"I mean, you were really upset." Draco was searching her face, trying to see if there was anything ulterior she was thinking.

"I was, but not anymore," Pansy grinned. "You can be my boyfriend again."

Pansy spoke those words with as much enthusiasm as listing off a grocery list. Draco couldn't help but think of what Granger accused them of. _You two are so superficial!_

He suddenly felt a cold touch on his right cheek. He glanced up to see Pansy holding his face, with her thumb on his chin. It was the exact same way Granger held his face, only something was... off this time. He looked into Pansy's eyes to look for _something._ Some sort of spark of emotion or feeling. But he found that her eyes were as empty as this relationship. He scowled at the ground because he realized Granger was bloody right. Whatever this was, it had no substance; it was paper thin. She then placed a light kiss on his lips."I'll see you tonight," she purred. She then skipped out of the Great Hall.

Draco touched his cheek. The ghost of Pansy's touch was present. He tried to focus on what he felt when she touched him and all he got out was cold, barren, nothingness. He had never realized it until that moment. He and Pansy have done more than just kissing plenty of times before. He didn't really _feel_ anything; all the kisses with her were just satisfactory, and he moved on. As far as feelings went, he had never really wanted anything more than that.

Without warning, he remembered how Granger touched him the same way. Only, he actually _felt_. Draco didn't know what, but it was _something._ And he hated her for it.

* * *

Hermione couldn't, for the life of her, concentrate in her Potions class. It's not like she needed to anyway. She received an Outstanding score for this subject in her O.W.L.s, and she was well prepared for the N.E.W.T.s. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't concentrate on Professor Slughorn's lecture.

All that Hermione could think about was that bloody Draco Malfoy. She still felt the tingle on her palm as she held his face. She still felt his warm breath against her skin. And she still felt that _thing_ ,that she couldn't quite place...

"Miss. Granger." Hermione was jolted from her thoughts to see that Professor Slughorn was asking her a question, "What potion has the effect of stomach growling?"

Hermione looked puzzled, for her mind was foggy. She paused, trying to remember the answer. She knew this! "Oi, Granger! Today would be nice!" jeered from someone in the back.

"Caxamu Style Borborygymus Potion, Sir," Hermione answered, still dazed. She shook out her head. She really needed to stop daydreaming in public; it's truly a rude awakening when interrupted.

Hermione turned her head around to the source of the heckling. She winced, but she couldn't say she was surprised; it was Malfoy and his lemmings, Blaise and Pansy. Malfoy was snickering at her, and she glared back.

Of course. What happened in the office didn't matter to Malfoy. And it was obvious with the way he stormed out of there. She had lost count of the times Malfoy insulted her "blood" but for some reason, this particular time cut deep. Maybe it was because just before he left, she felt like she was getting somewhere with him. He seemed so open in that moment... open with _her._ And she swore that if he didn't act out, he would've been kissing her.

Suddenly, Mr. Filch came in. "Excuse me, Professor Slughorn. Headmaster Dumbledore needs to see Hermione Granger immediately," the man said. Professor Slughorn nodded his dismissal to Hermione, and she stood up to pack her things.

The three Slytherins made an "Ooooh" sound, and the whole class started to laugh. She tried to ignore the taunting behind her as she walked out, away from the shark tank.

When she arrived at Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster let out a sigh of relief when he saw her. "Oh, Miss Granger! Thank goodness you're here!" He gestured her to sit down.

"What's wrong, Headmaster?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore started pacing the floor, thinking of some way to phrase lightly what he was about to say. Yet, there was not a light way to put it.

Dumbledore began, "My dear, I'm afraid you must know the true reason I insisted you stay at Hogwarts."

"So it was _you_? Not Harry and Ron?"

"Indeed. They desperately wanted you to come, but I didn't renege. You had to be kept safe, and I'm afraid that you're still in danger even here."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at Hermione. "Miss. Granger, I'm afraid you have a very large bounty on your head from Voldemort."

"Yes, I knew that alre-"

Dumbledore stopped her. "Voldemort seeks to purge the world of Muggle-borns. You, my dear, are the most notorious one. You are the best friend of Harry Potter, and you've done much to weaken Voldemort and his forces. If you went out to look for Horcruxes, you would put yourself and your friends in twice as much danger. Being here, without Harry and Ron, not only lessens your threat but theirs as well. I'm sure Voldemort has promised some immeasurable reward to whoever brings you to him, dead or alive. Every single Death Eater is looking for you. "

Dumbledore paused to let Hermione process the information. She looked down at her hands. She now understood the meaning behind what the letters kept saying, "This is to protect you". She suddenly felt guilty for being angry at Harry and Ron. They really did care about her. As for the bounty, she wasn't scared- not really. She had been used to these kinds of threats, what with being best friends with the Boy Who Lived. But they were more secondary, with the threat being primarily on Harry. She had never been the prime target before, and the thought gave her chills.

"Sir," Hermione questioned, "You said I'm still not safe even here."

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, my dear." Hermione stood up, anticipating and bracing for what he was going to say, "There is another reason why I put Mr. Malfoy as Head Boy. For you to keep an eye on him."

Hermione's heart rate increased as she looked at the Headmaster. He looked at her with worry as he said, "I'm afraid Hogwarts has once more been breached by Death Eaters."

* * *

Draco looked into the mirror in his room. He had changed out of his robes and put on a formal, black suit with a black shirt. He was about to get the revenge of his life, and he wanted to look good for it.

He heard the door open and he turned to see Pansy in a black, form-fitting, knee-length dress. "Here I'll get that for you," she said as she crossed over to Draco, and started fiddling with his undid tie. She stood in front of him as she wrapped the fabric around his neck.

He was staring into space until Pansy brought him back to reality. "That was hilarious with Granger, no?" she asked.

Draco looked confused. "What?"

"In potions! That girl was practically drunk, she was so out of it! It was hilarious when you called her out on it!"

"Oh, right," Draco was still confused. "Why does it matter?"

Pansy finished his tying his tie, and looked up at him. "Oh, you know," Pansy turned around to face the mirror with Draco, and grabbed his shoulders. "just keeping the mudblood in her place. Don't want her to be _too_ comfortable with her being Head Girl with you as Head Boy," she said to Draco's reflection.

"Well she knows her place now, so we should just leave her alone," Draco said flatly.

Pansy scrunched her face at Draco, "Right," She let go of his shoulders and walked towards the door. "I'll be down in the common room when you're ready," she said. She slowly opened the door, stealing one last glance at Draco, and then exited his room.

When Pansy left, Draco looked into the mirror once more and stared at the scars on his left cheek. He vividly remembered Granger's feather light touch as she skimmed his scars. He remembered how he _let_ her like he was hers to explore. He dared not to say it, but he _wanted_ her to.

"What the _hell_ are you doing, Draco?!" He barked at his reflection. His mind screamed the same thing when he was with Granger, but his body ignored it. He shook out his head and tried to forget about her. At least for tonight, forget about Granger. Tonight was about sweet, sweet revenge.

He walked downstairs into the common room where the party was at. Fairy lights were strung above the room, and there was music playing from the record player. Almost every Slytherin was there. They were all dancing, talking, laughing, and drinking. Bottles of Firewhiskey were strewn about , and everyone's glass was filled.

Draco felt a hand grab his shoulder, and he saw that it was Blaise. "You ready?" he asked Draco.

Draco nodded.

"Alright, 'cause you got a flesh-eater at your six o'clock," Blaise said.

Draco put on a crooked smile and mumbled, "And here we go."

Blaise flicked his wand, and the record player stopped. Everyone vocally protested and turned towards the player. Blaise motioned them to be quiet, and they obeyed. He then nodded at Draco. Draco slowly turned around to see Millicent at the entrance of the common room wearing a long, black gown. She smiled at him.

Draco started walking towards her. "You actually bought it!" All of the heads in the room turned to observe the scene. "You bought that I'd hook up with _you_?" Draco pushed a student out of the way to keep advancing towards Millicent. This parted the sea of students, and now there was nothing left between him and her.

Draco kept talking as he walked towards her. "The arse-faced Frankenskank who publicly humiliated me?" Draco stopped in front of her. "No dice, Sunshine."

Millicent, who seemed unfazed, slowly shook her head and warned, "I only came to give you a second chance."

Draco shrugged, "I guess I blew it." He then nodded at Blaise, and Draco walked away from the common room.

"Incarcerous!" Blaise called out, pointing his wand at Millicent. She fell to the floor with her hands and feet tied. She was immobile. Her breath quickened in fear as Blaise called out a levitating charm. She screamed as she floated above the Slytherins staring at her in awe. She then floated down on a table. Millicent looked out at the students' faces. They were chanting and calling her out,

"Put her on a spit, for the pig she is!"

"Hogtie that hog!"

Blaise was transfiguring an apple from a glass of Firewhiskey to complete the picture. Millicent gagged as Blaise stuck the apple in her mouth. The Slytherins roared with approval and the room was spinning with jeers and laughter. It was music to Draco's ears as he walked out of the common room. It was the sweet, sweet sound of revenge.

Millicent viciously spit the apple out. "Malfoy! Malfoy! Look at me!" Millicent screeched from her position on the table. Malfoy shouldn't have but he did, and he turned around to face her. Her face was red with anger as she yelled, "BEST EMBRACE THE SUCK!"

She reached for her wand and then broke the binds. Suddenly, her body disappeared into black smoke, and it flew out of the common room and vanished. A sound of horrified realization escaped Draco as he recognized that spell. It was a flying spell that could only be used by a Death Eater.

Draco quickly turned, and sprinted out of the dungeons. He didn't care where he was going. As long as it was anywhere but there. He put his arm up against a stone wall to catch his breath. He all of a sudden felt extremely sick. Draco started hyperventilating and sweating. His head was blaring with a headache, and his vision was blurred. Everywhere he looked, he saw Millicent grotesquely smiling, and a Dark Mark gleaming on her left forearm.

Suddenly, his own left forearm jolted with pain. Draco let out a scream as he fell to his knees, gripping his arm. He threw off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt sleeve, and rolled it up. His Dark Mark was practically leaping out of his skin. Even though he left the Death Eaters, the Dark Mark was still present, and therefore he was still prone to the summoning. He suddenly heard a calling and felt the urge to move. When he resisted, his left forearm jolted with a searing pain. He screamed again and fell to the stone floor. He knew that if he didn't follow the calling, the pain would get worse. And he also knew that if he did go, he would be summoned to the Dark Lord.

He apparated to where the calling told him to go, and he found himself on the astronomy tower. He clutched the railing, trying to catch his breath. He was paralyzed with fear because he knew that the Dark Lord was present and he would give him a slow, and painful death. He heard a noise and quickly spun around, wand in hand. He saw a black silhouette approaching him. He was about to call out a stunning spell, until the shadow spoke, "How are you feeling, Draco?"

He lowered his wand as he recognized the voice. "Millicent?" She stepped into the moonlight, and he stammered, "How- How did you summon me? What are you- what are you doing here? "

"I'm here for everyone who 'just missed the beauty boat'."

Draco shook his head, "What?"

"And all the 'arse-faced Frankenskanks'."

"It was a joke!"

Millicent cocked her head slightly, "I didn't get it." She walked closer to him. "But pretty soon, you will."

"Huh?" Draco asked, backing up against the railing.

"You have a year to find someone to love you," Millicent grabbed his left arm and turned it Dark Mark up. She tapped the Dark Mark with her wand and a tattoo of a tree grew out around the Dark Mark. "before the tree blooms again," Millicent said as white roses appeared on the tattoo.

Draco grabbed his forearm. A tree was intricately tattooed in with the Dark Mark. Its roots spread out into his palm, and the trunk of the tree was wound around by the snake of the Dark Mark. The tree then branched out, with the skull as the tip of the trunk and as the branches' center. Green leaves were covering the branches, and white roses were sporadically blooming on them. "What is this magic?!" Draco shrieked, clutching his arm.

Millicent continued, "When the white roses bloom again, the year is up." Draco gasped as the white roses disappeared from the tree on his forearm.

"What the-?"

Millicent then said, "And either the words: 'I love you' will release you from the spell," Millicent paused and then whispered, "or stay like this forever."

Draco looked up at Millicent with fear, "Like what?!"

She smiled and then flicked her wand. Draco suddenly felt a burning pain and he fell to the ground, screaming. His body started convulsing, and he could feel himself morphing and changing. When the excruciating pain suddenly ceased, Draco slowly stood up and faced Millicent. "What did you do to me?!"

Millicent flicked her wand again, and a full-length mirror slowly rose up from the ground. Millicent stepped aside to let Draco see his reflection. His jaw dropped as he stared in shock. He took a step forward. "No-" He felt his face to make sure it was real. "No!"

Millicent finally answered, "You've become as aggressively unattractive outside as you are inside."

Draco unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the ground to examine his body. Draco was, simply put, a monster. His hair was completely gone, and in its place were green, intricate, and grotesque tattoos. They branched randomly across his face and continued down his chest. These tattoos continued to spread across his hips and around his entire back. More tattoos circled his neck and around both of his arms. Nasty scars were sliced into his flesh all across his body. A large one stretched from his nose to his right ear, and another large one stretched from his left pec to his navel. Blisters the size of quarters took their place beside his nose. And to top it all off, the Dark Mark was glowing in all of its tainted glory. It was emphasized in such a way, that it became the pinnacle of this hideous and ugly beast. This beast, that was now Draco Malfoy.

Draco whipped his head around, looking for Millicent. But she was gone. He looked around again and stopped when he saw his reflection. He walked towards the mirror until he touched the glass. He sunk to his knees and clutched his head in agony. Millicent's words echoed through his mind,

 _You have a year to find someone to love you,_ Draco looked into his reflection again, _Or stay like this forever,_ Draco roared in anger as he punched the glass. The magical mirror shattered and was reduced to dust.

Draco sat on his knees, absolutely shocked by what has happened. He was now a disgusting monster, and he had to find someone to love him in a year or this appearance will be permanent. He put his face in his hands, completely hopeless.

"Stupefy!"

Draco was startled by the use of the stunning spell. He grabbed his wand and walked towards the source of the noise. He then saw Millicent on the ground, stunned by the spell. He crouched down and noticed her left forearm. Draco got chills as he saw the Dark Mark. So this confirmed it; this girl was a Death Eater.

Draco stood up as he heard another noise and put his wand out to the darkness. He shouted, "Come out and face me!" His eyes searched the darkness, but couldn't see anything. Out of nowhere, a dark figure started advancing towards him. "Confringo!" Draco shouted, but the spell was blocked.

The figure then started to laugh. "Uh-uh-uh, Draco! " It stepped into the moonlight, and Draco's eyes widened as they beheld Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Is that any way to greet your dear aunt?"


	3. The Beast Within

Hermione was stunned at the accusation from Dumbledore."So you think Malfoy let in more Death Eaters?"

"I'm not certain that Mr. Malfoy is the mole, but it's a possibility given his history. That's why I wanted you to watch him closely," Dumbledore answered. "All I know is that at least one Death Eater has breached the castle. Has Malfoy been acting strangely around you?"

 _Well, I believe he almost kissed me in the office._ "No," Hermione said flatly. Her thought took her by surprise and she tried to shake it out. Never, in a million years, would she have imagined that actually happening. But the strange part was that it almost did.

Dumbledore sighed, "Well I guess it could be anyone."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked sternly.

"I didn't know for certain. I wouldn't want to throw out empty accusations before knowing the truth. "

Hermione exhaled with annoyance and moved on. She knew the feeling of being kept in the dark all too well. She was almost used to it."How do you know the Death Eaters got in?"

"Well, they didn't use the vanishing cabinet. Who let them in did not do it carefully. I felt the wards around the castle shift, which then enabled the Death Eaters to apparate here. And I do believe it's a student that is letting them in," Dumbledore elaborated while pacing the floor.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "A _student_? Who could possibly-"

Dumbledore interjected, "It's happened before, has it not?"

The reminder stung Hermione. Could it possibly have been Malfoy? She thought he had changed after that night in the astronomy tower. She thought that he had sacrificed everything in his life for the greater good. Maybe, just maybe, Malfoy had redeemed himself. But maybe his sudden increase in narcissism wasn't a mask or facade at all. Whatever light she saw in him was false. Perhaps what she saw in his eyes was not fear of exposing himself as _vulnerable_ , but fear of exposing himself as a _Death Eater._

Dumbledore softly said, "Miss Granger, I must remind you that you are in great danger. I must ask you to go straight to your room, lock your door and windows, and don't leave until the morning. I promise you that we will expel this danger by tomorrow. And I also suggest that you tell no one of the situation. I want this to be handled quickly, and quietly. I do not want students panicking."

Hermione nodded and turned around. She didn't wait for a dismissal, for she opened the door and exited the office. She made it half-way down the stairs before a sob escaped her lips. She leaned her forehead against the stone wall and attempted to muffle her cries by biting her lip. The sudden outburst took her aback. What was she bloody crying about?! In that moment, she told herself it was nonsense. But looking back, she would see that she was crying because she was _scared._ Scared it would be another repeat of last year, only, Merlin forbid, the Death Eaters would succeed. She was scared for Harry and Ron. She was scared for herself. And she was even scared for Draco Malfoy.

After a long time, Hermione had forgotten her intention as she was leaving Dumbledore's office. Her eyes were bloodshot and stinging. She was only relieved when her eyelids covered them. She found herself drifting off to sleep every time she closed her eyes. She tried to fight it, but her exhaustion overtook her. After awhile, she let sleep take her away as her head leaned against the stone wall.

* * *

"Bellatrix?! How did you get here? And how did you summon me?" interrogated Draco, as he held up his wand to her.

"Being in the Dark Lord's good graces comes with benefits. One of them is the power to summon. And as far as getting through, Millicent let me in. She really is a dear. All _I_ had to do was teach her the Unbeautify curse to cast on you," Bellatrix looked at Draco up and down and chuckled, "And my, my Draco. You look wretched. You must have been a real prick."

" _You_ taught her this magic?!" Draco hissed.

"Oh, yes. It's quite a marvel, isn't it? Draco Malfoy, the narcissist, turned as ugly as his soul." Bellatrix accosted him while snickering, "It's deliciously ironic, isn't it?"

Draco tried to rebuke but Bellatrix spoke again, "Speaking of irony, you're probably wondering why I summoned you here to this spot," Bellatrix then continued in an irritated voice, "the same spot where you betrayed us."

"So do what you came here to do! Kill me!" Draco provoked.

"As much as I want to, nephew dearest, I can't. Narcissa-"

Draco gasped at the sound of her name. "Mother? Where is she?! Is she safe?" he demanded.

"Yes, yes Cissy is fine. She begged me to come here. I should warn you that Death Eaters are going to infiltrate the castle in a month. Their sole objective is to kill you and..." Bellatrix snapped her fingers trying to remember the name. "that one Mudblood..."

Draco's breath stopped short. "Granger?"

"Oh yes! _That_ peachy little tart!" Bellatrix then glanced at Draco looking perplexed. "I'm surprised you react to _her_ death warrant and not _yours."_

"Well, I already knew about _mine._ Why do they want Granger dead?" Draco asked accusingly.

Bellatrix lifted her eyebrows in awe and replied, "She's the most famous mudblood on the planet, and the Dark Lord wants to rid it of her kind. Don't tell me you've come to care for the girl!"

"No!" Draco shook out his head and then stammered, "N-no. Curiosity." He remembered it was the same reply Granger gave him when he asked her why _she_ cared.

Bellatrix carried on, "Anyway, I suggest you tell your Headmaster about the attack. But, it's not like you can do anything about it. Millicent has done much damage to the wards around the castle, so you should tell your precious mudblood to keep on her guard. Luckily for you, the Unbeautify curse is a blessing in disguise. You are completely unrecognizable, and due to the curse, no magic can ever trace you as Draco Malfoy. To the world's knowledge, Draco Malfoy doesn't exist."

Draco shivered at Bellatrix's words, and he was stunned silent. He had a completely new identity. Unless he found someone to break the curse, _Draco Malfoy_ , the identity, would never live again.

Bellatrix then broke the ice, "There's one more thing I should tell you. If you want to keep the girl alive, you cannot let her leave the castle. Currently, there are a dozen Death Eaters camping out in the Forbidden Forest."

"If they're surrounding the castle, and the wards are disturbed, why haven't they attacked yet?

"Well, it's because I'm not letting them," Bellatrix confessed. Draco looked confused and tried to respond but Bellatrix interrupted him, "I'm the head of this operation. Right now, they think I'm meeting with Millicent to coerce her into disturbing the wards. They have no idea that they could have free reign of this place right now. "

"Then why did you tell me that the infiltration will happen in a month?"

"That's when I plan to tell the blighters the wards are down."

Draco walked towards her and asked, "Why would-"

She stopped him abruptly, " _Time_ , Draco! To buy you time for you to hide!" She made a noise of disgust as she brushed him off, "Bloody hell!"

Bellatrix rubbed her temples as Draco spoke again, "I thought you said that I don't exist anymore."

She threw up her hands. "Well it doesn't sound like you're leaving that girl alone, and I can guarantee that the Death Eaters will kill anything that stands in the way of her."

Bellatrix scoffed, and reached for her wand to disapparate but Draco called her out, "Wait!" She stopped and gave him an impatient look. "Why are you doing this? Why are you warning me?"

She sighed heavily and replied, "Because unlike you, I haven't abandoned my family. I promised Narcissa to keep you safe, and I have no intention of reneging." Draco hated to admit it, but he was touched by the words. His mother hadn't disowned him, and apparently neither had his aunt. He gave Bellatrix a sad look.

She practically gagged, "Don't look at me like that, you plug-ugly prune! Honestly, put a shirt on or something! You look horrible!"

Draco slightly snickered and muttered, "Thank you."

Bellatrix waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Right after I leave, " Bellatrix made a horrified look at him again, "and after you cover yourself, take Millicent to the hospital wing. She won't remember a thing of this conversation so don't bring it up with her. After you drop her off, go to Dumbledore."

Before Draco could thank her again, she disapparated away.

He couldn't believe it. The notorious Bellatrix LeStrange was protecting him from her master, _Voldemort._ Draco was flooded with guilt as he realized that Bellatrix would suffer terrible consequences for this. If she wasn't killed, the Cruciatus curse would drive her into madness. He knew he didn't deserve it. And to think his mum was still there for him made him feel even more unworthy.

Draco deeply exhaled and then remembered what he was doing. Draco threw on his shirt and then walked over to Millicent. He threw her over his left shoulder, gripping her legs with his left arm, being as graceful as he could be. He then grabbed his wand with his other hand and apparated to the Hospital Wing.

Once he got there, he noticed how it was quiet, and the halls were empty. Draco sighed in relief that students were either in their common rooms or asleep. Draco carefully walked forward to talk to the Healer. Madam Pomfrey was sitting down at her desk, making a salve. Draco cleared his throat and spoke, "Madam Pomfrey? I found this girl stupefied on the astronomy tower."

She stopped what she was doing. "Oh my! That's-" When she looked up, she gasped in horror as she saw Draco. She then screamed as her eyes drifted to Millicent's body draped over his shoulder.

Draco quickly placed Millicent on an empty bed and then walked towards the terrified healer. "Madam Pomfr-"

"What have you done to her, you monster?!" She grabbed her wand and pointed it at Draco.

"Wait!" Draco looked around.

Panicked, he took out his wand and shouted, "Obliviate!"

Madam Pomfrey fell to the floor, fainted. Draco turned and sprinted out of the hospital wing. He took out his wand and apparated.

As Draco appeared in his room, he listened for any sounds of stirring from outside his room. He was relieved when he heard nothing but silence. Thank Merlin that no one heard the ruckus from the Hospital Wing. Draco decided that he needed to look more discreet. He went over to his trunk to find some more suitable clothing. He took off his shirt, slacks, and formal shoes and replaced them with a black t-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black hoodie.

Draco looked into his full-length mirror. He almost forgot that he was now a hideous, and disgusting beast. The way Madam Pomfrey looked at him made his insides churn. It was the most horrible expression he had ever seen. He had never seen someone so disgusted and mortified. And not to mention, that _he_ was the reason for it. He was now an outcast. An outsider. He didn't belong anywhere.

He furiously punched the glass, though this time, the mirror didn't reduce to dust. He could still see his revolting reflection in the broken and jagged mirror. He felt a stinging pain in his right hand. He was bleeding profusely with pieces of glass still stuck in his skin. "Shite!" he exclaimed, trying to pick out the sharp pieces. He _would_ go to Madam Pomfrey but she would be terrified of him again, and not to mention she had just lost part of her memory. Though she would only forget what happened when she saw Draco, it was still lost.

Pain shot through his hand as he gingerly put his hood on. He needed to get this taken care of. He grabbed his wand and tried a healing spell. Unfortunately, with his non-dominant hand, the spell was completely botched. In fact, it opened the wound even more. Draco screeched in pain and then growled in frustration. Well, he couldn't do anything about it, and trying to apparate with his non-dominant hand could be dangerous. He'd have to go Dumbledore's office on foot.

He slowly opened his door and peeked his head out. He listened for any movement or voices, but it was silent. Everyone was still asleep. Draco walked down the stairs, into the common room, and then into the dungeons.

He managed to make it to the entrance of Dumbledore's office without any problems. When he said the password, he jumped in shock to find Hermione Granger sitting on the hidden staircase. She seemed to be groggy and disoriented. Was the girl just sleeping? Draco ran to hide, but it was too late.

She called out to him, "I'm sorry! Was I in your way?" She stood up and stretched.

Draco remained silent as he stood facing the wall. He heard her step down and walk towards him. He tried to flee, but she grabbed his shoulder. "Excuse me, are-" she suddenly gasped in shock. Draco's heart dropped to his stomach. She saw his horrendous face and was sure to run away in horror. He almost turned around to face her. "Granger, I-"

"Your hand!" She pulled out her wand immediately. "May I?" she asked. Draco made an agreeing grunt from the back of his throat. She performed a healing spell on Draco's bleeding hand. The shards of glass and blood evaporated as a warm, healing glow spread across his hand. Draco instantly felt relief. Not just because of his hand, but because she didn't see his face.

Hermione was firmly holding Draco's hand, and then she made a small gasp. She immediately jerked his hand to her face. Draco made a sound of discomfort as Hermione spoke, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be touchy. But these tattoos are unlike anything I've ever seen in person. Can I see?" He nodded.

Draco turned to the side to sneak a peek at her from the side of his hood. She held his hand palm up with her left hand and traced the marks with her right index finger. Her finger slowly grazed the skin around his palm and around his wrist. "Amazing, " she whispered as she intently studied. Her brown eyes were so intently fixed on the patterns, it was like she was reading a book. She turned his hand around and studied the back of his hand. Her finger circled around his thumb, and around his knuckles. His skin tingled wherever she lightly dragged her finger. She then suddenly let go and reached for his left hand.

Draco violently snatched it away. If she studied his left hand like she studied his right, she would find the Dark Mark. She was taken aback, "I'm so sorry! I- I'm such a nerd when it comes to these things. I've only seen these kinds of tattoos in books. How they take the form of branches and spread all throughout the body. They're supposed to tell a story of some sort, and it's different for everyone who got them. Some told a story of pilgrimage, redemption, or..."

Granger continued to babble. Draco watched her with his peripheral vision. Her eyes completely lit up like a fire as she talked about the tattoos. She was practically glowing as she spouted out everything she knew about the designs. "...they truly are amazing. They're quite beautiful."

"Beautiful?" Draco asked.

"Beautiful," she repeated with a grin. His heart warmed as she smiled widened.

Draco was absolutely wonderstruck by this girl. He didn't know if it was the late hour, or if he was drunk off Firewhiskey, but he was in awe of how she seemed to find beauty in the smallest things. Things that Draco found insignificant.

"Anyway, I need to get to sleep. Goodbye," she said while walking away. She then yelled over her shoulder, "Nice to sort-of meet you!" Draco grinned as he watched her walk away. He had never seen her light up like that. She was so carefree and full of bliss as she expressed her love of knowledge , and it was somehow hypnotizing to Draco.

He almost forgot what he was doing, but then was suddenly jolted with recollection. He was going to see Dumbledore in his office to warn him about the Death Eater attack. He ran up the stairs, and then suddenly remembered that Dumbledore has never seen him like this. How would he react? _Would_ he react? The possibilities ran through his mind as he opened the door.

Draco held his breath as he watched the Headmaster turn around. When he met Dumbledore's eyes, Draco saw how Dumbledore was taken aback. "Draco, my dear boy, what happened to you?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore! I must speak with you," he said. Draco dared to put his hood down. He reached up slowly and cautiously brought the fabric down behind his skull.

Dumbledore slightly gasped and closed his eyes. He slowly sat down and remained silent.

Draco said exasperatingly, "Headmaster, the Death Eaters are back."

Draco explained to Dumbledore the entire situation. He talked about how Millicent let Bellatrix in the castle in exchange for the knowledge of the Unbeautify curse. He then explained how Bellatrix told him of the Death Eater's plans to infiltrate the castle in a month and kill both him and Granger.

" We are in danger, and we only have a month to prepare!" Draco said to Dumbledore. The Headmaster stood up, shell-shocked at the situation.

"What should we do?" Draco asked desperately.

The Headmaster began to pace the floor and replied, "This is a very difficult situation. We cannot repair the wards, for Millicent has done irreparable damage. Miss. Granger cannot leave the castle, for she would alert the Death Eaters. And you can't be _in_ the castle because of your..." Dumbledore trailed off as he looked at Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes and flatly said, "Situation?"

"Yes. Your situation."

Draco scoffed, "Again, what do you suggest we do?"

Dumbledore continued pacing the floor. Draco watched the old man silently walk back and forth. He could tell that the man's mind was at work. Suddenly, he stopped. He turned to look at Draco and suggested, "First, we need you to disappear, and yet still be _here._ "

Draco scrunched up his face in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Your curse comes at a very good time, indeed. The Death Eaters cannot track you, for you are an entirely different person. Although you _do_ need to be out of the school grounds."

"What are you suggesting?"

Dumbledore still seemed to be sorting through his thoughts, "We need someone to keep an eye out for Miss. Granger. She's safe for at least a month, but when the time comes, she'll need a protector; _you,_ Mr. Malfoy."

"What?" Draco looked at Dumbledore incredulously.

"Well, no one else can. You and I are the only ones who know what's about to happen. I can't keep an eye on her, _and_ keep the rumors settled down,"

"What rumors?"

" By tomorrow, the Head Boy will be missing and Millicent will be found in the hospital. Something has to be said to keep things under control."

 _The truth._ Draco almost said. But something kept him back from saying it. The truth would be that Millicent let a Death Eater into the castle, and that forced Draco into hiding. The thing is, _that_ "truth" is black and white. The _real_ truth has a gray area.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed, "Say that Millicent exposed me as a Death Eater, and I had to escape. And when the time comes, blame the coming up infiltration on me as well. Say that _I_ disrupted the wards."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. " _You'd_ take the fall for this? And leave Millicent completely innocent? You, who did nothing wrong, will take the blame for what Millicent did?"

"Actually, I'm not innocent. I made her do this. Besides, I'll be gone anyway. Let them talk." The words tasted like acid as they left Draco's mouth. It was so unlike him, yet he knew it was the right thing to do.

Dumbledore crossed his arms and smiled. " Draco, maybe there _is_ hope for you."

 _Everyone can afford hope, too. Even for themselves._ Granger's words coursed through his mind. Maybe... just maybe... the mudblood was right.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid we still need to relocate you." Dumbledore paused and thought for a moment. "And I know just the place."


	4. Memories and Heartbreak

Dumbledore stood up and held out his arm, intending for Malfoy to take it. "We're going _now_?" Draco asked, perplexed.

"Well, you can't stay in the castle. And you're either going now or staying at Hagrid's,"

Draco didn't give it another thought and immediately stood up. He reached for the Headmaster's arm saying, "Nothing against Hagrid, but I'd rather _not_ be sleeping in animal feces."

The two apparated, and then appeared in front of a row of townhouses. Draco peered into the windows and noticed people doing odd things. They were manually turning off lights, changing the telly, and cooking dinner. Things that could be easily done with magic. Draco made a "pfft" sound and said, "These people are acting like muggles."

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, they _are_ muggles,"

Draco scrunched up his nose, "What? Where-"

"In the muggle part of London," Dumbledore answered Draco's unfinished question.

"Why? Doesn't Voldemort want to eradicate every muggle alive? I mean, he kills them like others like to knit scarves to pass the time! This place is begging for a Death Eater attack,"

"Not necessarily. When his plan to assassinate me failed, his forces were greatly weakened. He cannot afford such a public attack. Besides, this place has a little bit of magic yet,"

"Yeah, where exactly is _this place?_ " Draco asked while looking around.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place,"

Draco inspected the town house numbers and was confused to see how they jumped from 11 to 13. "Very funny, old man. It skips-"

Draco stopped when Dumbledore waved his hand. The townhouses began groaning as they started moving. Numbers 11 and 13 split and, like a cell, seemed to grow another townhouse in between. The muggles in 11 and 13 didn't seem to notice at all. On the outside wall of the new building, a number 12 was properly placed.

"It's under the Fidelius Charm, and no muggle can see it. I'm the house's Secret-Keeper and since I have directly shown you how to open it, you now have access as well," Dumbledore informed Draco.

The Headmaster led him to the front door and he opened it. The building was dark, old, and derelict. The floorboards creaked as Draco walked around on them. He had a feeling that this place was oddly familiar. "Have I been here before?" Draco muttered as he ran his fingers over the water-stained walls.

Dumbledore closed the door behind him and answered, "I wouldn't know, my dear boy." The Headmaster then walked beside Draco and continued, "I _do_ know that this is the ancestral home of the Black family."

Draco stopped short, " _This_ is the Black ancestral home? My _cousin's_ home?"

Dumbledore remained silent as he saw Draco in deep recollection. Draco remembered how his family came here when he was a young boy. He recalled that he used to play in the drawing room with his cousins as his parents talked to Master and Mistress Black over tea-time. He even remembered that they had a particularly unpleasant house-elf.

He was so dazed with nostalgia, he almost didn't notice the very house-elf come down the stairs. When Draco looked at him, the house-elf gasped. Dumbledore immediately interjected, "Kreacher, you remember Draco Malfoy. He is currently under the Unbeautify curse."

The house elf softened, "Oh, yes. Kreacher remembers Malfoy. Kreacher remembers that Malfoy was the pale, miserable boy of Narcissa and-"

Draco viciously pointed at him and barked, "Speak about my mother again, and I swear I'll-"

Dumbledore grabbed the back of Draco's shoulder to hold him back, "Kreacher! Away with you!" Dumbledore demanded. The house-elf walked away, grumbling something about pureblood glory and blood traitors.

Dumbledore let go of Draco."That's Kreacher. He was, and is still, loyal to the Black family and their beliefs on _blood,_ " Dumbledore explained.

"Especially their _beliefs,_ " Draco added.

"He won't bother _you._ If you won't bother _him._ "

Dumbledore gestured to go upstairs. He started talking as they were climbing, "This used to be Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It's not anymore, but it' still used as a safe-house. No one ever comes here, though. So I thought we should take advantage of this empty building to keep you safe."

Once they reached the second floor Dumbledore began to speak again, "There are bedrooms on this floor and the floors above us. You can pick a bedroom and rest for the night. Your trunk will be sent here first thing in the morning."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore put his hands on Draco's shoulders. "Listen carefully," Dumbledore began, "In exactly one month's time, you will apparate to Hogwarts. You will find Miss. Granger, and you will watch her closely. Protect her, and keep her from harm. Make sure that she doesn't go anywhere private- keep her in public."

"How am I supposed to do that when _I_ can't go out in public?"

Dumbledore let go of his shoulders and laughed, "Well it'll be Halloween, will it not? You will blend in perfectly!"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Hilarious," he deadpanned. "Why can't you just warn her about the attack?"

"Mr. Malfoy, you _kn_ ow that Miss. Granger will want to fight it. I predict that she will run into the Forbidden Forest, wand in hand, and try to take on the Death Eaters singlehandedly ."

Draco smirked at the thought. "Must be that so-called Gryffindor bravery." he joked.

Dumbledore continued, "Anyway, there will be a huge celebration in the Great Hall. Miss Granger will be there, for she's in charge of the event. Well, so are you. But you will be preoccupied, obviously." Draco only nodded. He wondered who would be the new Head Boy. Would they dare pick someone from Slytherin again? How would he get along with Granger?

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts, "I will send a housekeeper here tomorrow. As well as a tutor the following week. I will now take my leave."

Draco shook out his head at the words, "Wait, what?"

"Don't worry. They will be well informed about your delicate situation, and they will take care of everything you need so you don't have to go outside,"

"But-" Draco couldn't get another word out as Dumbledore apparated away.

Draco sighed. Well, he was on his own for now. He started to wander around the house. Eventually, he found himself in the drawing room. It was certainly the most unkempt room in the house. It was practically devoid of furniture, and there were holes in the floorboards. Draco could smell mold growing on the walls, as well as mildew. His eyes scanned the room, remembering it in all its glory and opulence. He remembered the plush couches and the elegant coffee table between them. He remembered the fireplace, and on the mantle there were valuable family heirlooms. He remembered the curtains he would always hide in when he was playing hide and seek with his cousins. One of the only things that remained from before was the tapestry of the Black family tree.

Draco walked into the center of the room to view the panoramic tapestry. It was greatly faded and worn, but Draco could still make out the faces and names. He recognized most of the people, and some of them dated all the way back to the Middle Ages. His eyes followed the literal branches around the tapestry, reading the names. He noticed that some of the faces were blackened out, one of them being Sirius Black. Upon further inspection, he saw that the fabric was singed. Whomever did this completely burned their face off the tapestry. He figured that they were either dead or disowned from the family. And for what? Being a blood traitor?

Draco's eyes wandered to Bellatrix and he shivered. He looked down to his left forearm. The Dark Mark was still there, intricately woven with the tree. It was gleaming, and it appeared to be even more grotesque than before his curse. He looked closer, and he noticed that the leaves of the tree have started to darken. This year is already moving by quickly.

Draco looked up to meet the fabric eyes of his mother. Draco's heart tugged as he looked at her face. He missed her desperately. He remembered what Bellatrix said about how she made her keep a promise to protect him. Despite everything Draco has done, his mother still loved him.

His eyes shifted down and saw his own face and name on the tapestry. He didn't know whether to feel proud or ashamed that his face in the fabric wasn't charred yet. After this year was over and, by some miracle, someone told him "I love you", would he want to go back to his old ways; his narcissistic, strictly pureblood lifestyle? Or would learning to love change him? Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This curse was a nightmare. He was being holed up like an animal, and he'd be let out soon just to protect Granger. Then what? He'd go back to living in this hellhole? How was he supposed to find love if he couldn't even go outside?

He looked up into his mother's fabric eyes again. They gave him comfort. At least it wasn't _too_ lonely here. Draco walked over and lied down in front of the tapestry. He closed his eyes and fell asleep with his mother watching over him.

* * *

Hermione woke up in her bed with a crick in her neck. She sat up slowly as she rubbed the sore spot with her hand. She regretted falling asleep in the stairwell. She regretted even more her dramatic episode before falling asleep there.

Hermione got up and made her bed. She took a quick shower, dried off, and then got dressed. As she was brushing her teeth, she glanced at her watch. Breakfast will start in five minutes. Looking at her wrist, a memory from last night suddenly came to mind. She remembered the odd man she saw when walking back from Dumbledore's office. He had a black hood on, and refused to look at her. He seemed distant, and she wondered why he wanted to go to Dumbledore's office. She feared that he was the Death Eater that infiltrated the castle. However, he let her study the tattoos on his hands. They truly were magnificent. She remembered tracing the branches and intricate designs around his hand and wrist. Though she didn't know his name, she felt like his tattoos could tell a story all their own. Although, he _did_ snatch away his left hand from her. Perhaps he was trying to his is Dark Mark? Chills went down Hermione's spine at the awful thought.

When she finished brushing her teeth, she went downstairs, and exited the Gryffindor common room. As she walked to the Great Hall, she noticed that students around her were talking in excited whispers. Hermione rolled her eyes. This was obviously gossip. Hermione usually tried to stay out of it, but she noticed that _every_ student was doing this. She could only make out a few words: "monster", "Madam Pomfrey", and "Millicent". Hermione groaned. She would hate for the bullying of Millicent to spread throughout the whole school. But Hermione noticed that the gossip didn't seem vindictive, but rather it was almost _frightened._

Hermione walked into the Great Hall and sat down with Ginny, Neville, and Seamus. They were also gossiping.

"Did you hear what happened to Madam Pomfrey last night?" Ginny asked Hermione as she sat down.

Hermione gave her a surprised look, "No! What happened?"

Neville answered, "Well she doesn't remember! She was probably obliviated. But the kids in the hospital wing saw the whole thing! A monster came in with Millicent Bulstrode all stupefied across his shoulders!"

Hermione gasped, " _Monster?"_

"Well, probably not. The kids in the hospital said it looked like a disgustingly deformed man. He had tattoos all over his body," Neville elaborated.

So the "monster" was that strange man she saw outside of Dumbledore's office. What could he possibly be doing in the castle, let alone with Millicent?

Seamus spoke up, "Forget that! Millicent had the bloody Dark Mark on her arm!"

Hermione's mouth dropped open, "What are you talking about?"

Before Seamus could respond, Dumbledore called attention from his podium at the far end of the Great Hall. Students were quickly silenced and they turned to face the Headmaster.

He began to speak, "Although the danger has passed, I regret to inform you all that there has been another Death Eater infiltration last night."

Students quietly chattered, and were quickly hushed as Dumbledore raised his hand, "We know that there was only one Death Eater, and only one student was harmed. Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin house was stupefied. Fortunately, the effects have worn off, but she is still in the hospital just in case further damage was done. Also, that Death Eater attacked Madam Pomfrey, and she was obliviated of the incident. Although, we have students as eye-witnesses that were staying in the Hospital Wing. Though she fainted, Madam Pomfrey was unharmed. Unfortunately, the Death Eater got away."

Students began frantically chattering again. Hermione was right. That strange man _was_ the Death Eater. But if he was going to Dumbledore's office, how did Dumbledore let him get away? Also, if what Dumbledore said to her last night about how Death Eaters wanted to kill her, why didn't that man with the tattoos attack? Did he not recognize her? Or-

"Silence!" Dumbledore said with a booming voice. A hush spread throughout the Great Hall, and Dumbledore spoke again, "I also regret to inform you that a student let in the Death Eater. This student has been coercing Millicent Bulstrode to aid him in letting the Death Eater into the castle. This earned her a rank among the Death Eaters. However, it's a position she did not want, for she was forced into it. Last night, Millicent confronted the student, refusing to help in. Unfortunately, with the wards down, it was too late. The Death Eater was in the castle, and the student fled. Millicent tried to stop the Death Eater, but he stunned her with the Stupefy spell."

Hermione looked at the Slytherin table. Her stomach dropped when she saw that Draco Malfoy was missing.

Dumbledore kept speaking, "I regret to inform you that the student that helped the Death Eater _is_ an active Death Eater, and he has disappeared."

 _Don't say it._ Hermione thought, her hand balling into a fist in her skirt.

"And he has also had recent history with the Death Eaters before. But, in light of the end of last year's events, many thought that he had changed. Unfortunately, he has not,"

 _For the love of Merlin, please don't say it._

"I regret to say that the student is your former Head Boy, Draco Malfoy,"

The Great Hall exploded. Students everywhere were gasping in surprise, or chatting away about it. It was absolute pandemonium. However, Hermione didn't hear it. The sounds were muffled under by her scattered thoughts. How could it be him? And how _couldn't_ be him? He had a history. But, after everything, she thought he had changed?

She felt like whatever happened on that astronomy tower meant nothing to him. He sacrificed everything the moment he yielded, and after all of that, he's still a Death Eater? Nothing had changed about Draco Malfoy. But still, after everything, Hermione refused to believe it.

Hermione slowly felt tears come to her eyes, but she blinked them away. Not now! No more! She refused to cry over Draco Malfoy! During her battle with herself, she didn't notice the Headmaster come up to her.

"Miss Granger, may I speak with you?"

Hermione jumped at his sudden appearance. She nodded and followed him outside the Great Hall.

He turned to her, "I know what you must be feeling right now, but-"

"I'm _not_ feeling anything. I'm perfectly content," Hermione snapped. She knew it was a lie.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at her and spoke slowly, "Right. Well, we need to hold interviews for the next Head Boy. Can you join me in my office at lunch to conduct them with me?"

Hermione simply nodded. Once Dumbledore left her alone, she walked out into the courtyard. She leaned against a pillar and took deep breaths.

 _I'm not feeling anything. I'm perfectly content._

She ran through the same thought over, and over in her head. She eventually started saying it out loud. She believed the more times she said, the closer she would be to believing it.

* * *

Draco woke up to the sound of knocking. When he tried to get up, he yelped in pain. His entire body was sore from sleeping on the cold, hard ground last night. Last time he'll ever do _that._

He groaned as the knocking became more frantic. "Hold on!" he shouted, trying to rub the exhaustion off his face. He gingerly stood up and walked to the door. When he opened it he saw a small, middle-aged woman. She had brown hair in a high ponytail. With olive skin and big, brown eyes, she had a huge smile on her face.

"Hi! I'm Isabella, your housekeeper," she held out a hand to him. Draco looked at her oddly. She seemed surprisingly chipper considering the fact that she just met a disgustingly disfigured man. It was only normal that he was cautious.

"Did Dumbledore tell you about-" Draco then gestured to his body.

"Yeah he did," Isabella responded, awkwardly taking her hand away and back to her side. "Honestly, I've seen worse."

This made Draco smirk. "Alright," Draco opened the door wider. "Come on in," Isabella smiled, and walked in, bringing her trunk with her. Draco then saw his own trunk behind her. He grabbed it, and then closed the door.

"Where should I put my things?" she asked, holding her trunk.

"Pick any bedroom you like. They're all upstairs,"

"Okie Dokie!"

Draco winced. He wanted to gag at how bubbly she was. It was way too early to be this happy. She almost reminded him of Lavender Brown. He noticed how she was struggling to lug her trunk up the stairs. Draco was puzzled. Why didn't she just use a levitating charm?

Draco took out his wand flicked it. Her trunk immediately started floating, and it flew to the top of the stairs. Isabella looked back at him with a grin, "Thank you! I guess I'm just used to manual labor. I completely forgot about magic."

"Uh-huh," was all Draco said. She turned around, and walked back up the stairs. Draco exhaled loudly. He would have to get used to her. She _is_ going to be taking care of him for the next year. She was, to put it lightly, odd. He didn't buy her excuse about supposed "manual labor". There was something _off_ about her, but he couldn't quite place it.

Draco cast a levitating charm on his own trunk and walked up the stairs with it. He was making his way to the master bedroom but stopped short when he heard singing. _Singing._

Draco ferociously turned around."No singing allowed! This isn't a bloody cabaret!" he shouted.

She stopped, and then shouted back, "Sourpuss!" She then proceeded to sing again. Draco slapped a hand to his face and dragged it down with a groan. This was going to be a _long_ year.


	5. Epiphany

Hermione liked Justin Finch-Fletchly. She did. Or at least she tried to. When she and Dumbledore held interviews for the Head Boy, prefects and other notable students were questioned. Justin ended up being the most favorable candidate, and became the new Head Boy. He immediately flung himself into the job. Hermione couldn't blink twice before Justin had a clipboard in his hands, and fastened the Head Boy badge on his robe. Before she knew it, he was already tardy-slipping students, and constructing a bloody suggestion box! He really was a sweet guy, but he could be extremely overbearing. And this was coming from _Hermione,_ the queen of overbearing, for Merlin's sake!

She went to the Head Boy and Girl office just before the scheduled meeting during lunch. She inwardly groaned as she saw Justin placing the suggestion box on the wall outside of the office.

"Is that really necessary?" Hermione asked.

Justin stood up and grinned a toothy smile. "Absolutely! It will give the students of Hogwarts a voice! This way, we'll _really_ know what's going on, because the notes can be anonymous. Trust me, this is genius!"

Hermione was about to warn Justin about how this was a perfect setup for a practical joke. But she bit her cheek before she could say anything because it would, in fact, be hilarious to see Justin get pranked. She could see it now: Justin would get a note about a problem in the courtyard. Of course when he would walk out, he would be met with a dungbomb.

Justin then walked with a bounce into the office, followed by Hermione. As she was sitting down, Hermione started, "The school Halloween party is weeks away, but we should plan it now."

"Right. I think we should ban costumes," Justin frankly suggested.

Hermione was taken aback. "Why would we do that?"

"It's too risky. Students in costumes, being unrecognizable, is a perfect time for people to pull pranks and endanger other students. There would be no punishment, since no one would know the culprit!"

"Costumes must be allowed! It's bloody Halloween!"

Justin paused and then got out his clipboard. "That language will not be tolerated, Miss. Granger, " Justin said while writing on the clipboard. He then handed her a warning slip.

"Why am I-" Hermione began, snatching the slip.

"Two more, and you will be put in detention," Justin replied, looking at her with all of the condescension in the world.

Hermione stared at Justin incredulously. This boy was beyond ridiculous. They couldn't discuss one thing without it turning into a meaningless argument. She remembered how her and Malfoy never got into any fights when they had meetings. In fact, they got along quite well. Although she was trying to forget about him, she would be lying if she said she didn't miss him being Head Boy.

Hermione exhaled and suggested, "Okay. Let's compromise then. We will have costumes but no masks. Alright?"

Justin scratched his chin as he thought about it. After awhile, he slowly nodded.

Hermione sighed with relief as they moved onto the next topic. "Right," she began, "how are we doing on decorations?"

"About those jack-o-lanterns floating around the Great Hall? Yeah, they are a complete fire hazard."

Hermione tuned Justin out as he ranted about fire safety. Her eyes wandered around the room. They landed in the arm chair where Malfoy sat when she healed his face. She remembered caressing his face as he watched her intently. She remembered how he _let_ her.

Her eyes shifted to the conference table. She recalled how he got dangerously close to her. She could practically see her own reflection in his gray irises. Her heart skipped a beat as she pictured his eyes flickering down to her lips. Would he have kissed her? And would _she_ have let _him_?

She glanced down at her hand in shock as she saw that the pads of her fingers were subconsciously touching her own lips. She put her hand down, and shook out her head. She _needed_ to forget about Malfoy. This odd infatuation had gone on for too long. She needed to face the facts: Malfoy was a Death Eater and he was _gone._ Although it hurt like hot steel, she tried anyway.

Hermione looked back to Justin, trying to concentrate on his lecture about jack-o-lanterns, while trying to stop imagining Malfoy's lips on hers.

* * *

Draco was lying down on his bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling, and being more broody than usual. It had been only a week, and he was going stir-crazy. There was absolutely nothing to do in this place. He'd go out, but unfortunately he looked like a mutilated monster. How did Dumbledore expect him to break this bloody curse if he couldn't even go outside to find someone?

The more he thought about it, the more he hated the old man. He was practically caging Draco like an animal, only to be let out to save the precious Head Girl. He _knew_ he'd have to be put back into this cell to rot. It would take a miracle to find love. It was impossible.

Draco angrily punched the pillow next to him. There was absolutely no hope. Suddenly, a lilted voice called up to him from downstairs.

"I'm going to get groceries! Do you need anything?" Isabella shouted from the ground floor.

 _And then there's this bitch,_ Draco thought. Isabella wasn't horrible, but she was such an oddball. Draco could hardly trust her because she acted so normal around him. Dumbledore said he would let the housekeeper know about Draco's situation, but still, you'd think the girl would be cautious at least.

"How about you bring back a pretty girl to fall in love with me, and get me out of this shitehole? Oh, and some milk," Draco sarcastically shouted back.

"Ha," was all Isabella said as she walked out the back door.

Draco got up from his bed and went downstairs. He couldn't bear to stay another second in that room, lest he'd go barking mad. Once he reached the ground floor, the doorbell rang.

Draco stopped short. How would someone be at the door? Muggles can't see this place, so who could it possibly be? Draco had a small hope that it was a beautiful girl to break his blasted curse. He went up to the peep hole and peeked through.

The man that was standing outside of the door had dark glasses on and was holding a cane. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and had dirty blond, messy hair with some scruff on his chin. He wore a button down shirt with a dark blue bowtie, and on top he wore a jacket. After a minute of looking the man up and down through the peep hole, Draco spoke. "Who are you?"

"Mary Poppins," the man said facetiously. He then chuckled at his own apparent joke. Draco remained silent.

The man noticed that he didn't get the joke by the awkward silence . He then cleared his throat and said, "I'm your tutor. Dumbledore hired me. I'm supposed to move in today."

Draco completely forgot Dumbledore was sending a bloody tutor. He locked Draco up, and now he was trying to educate him like it was home school? The mention of Dumbledore's name made Draco wince. "Tell the old man he can _carpe diem_ in Hell," Draco said curtly.

The tutor replied, "Happy to! Meantime, how about you cage the rage and invite me in for a nice hot bowl of my-life-sucks?"

Draco smirked. Who _was_ this guy?"Saw right through that one, huh?" Draco asked skeptically.

"Yeah, it's a little gift I have," The tutor then leaned slightly forward into the peephole, "Especially since I _can't actually see._ "

Draco lifted an eyebrow. He looked at the tutor's glasses and cane and he realized that the tutor was blind. Draco turned away from the peephole and sighed, putting his forehead on the door. Draco couldn't help but feel slightly insulted that Dumbledore hired a _blind_ tutor. He recognized a dig at him when he saw one. But it did seem practical, at least.

Draco scoffed with disdain as he unlocked the door opened it. The tutor immediately stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Hi, I'm William."

"Come in." Draco said sternly, ignoring William's introduction. The tutor awkwardly put his hand down, and then grabbed his trunk beside him. William moved into the entryway while maneuvering his cane in front of him, dragging it back and forth to get his bearings.

Draco continued, "When Isabella gets back, she'll welcome you to Hell. She'll fix you up with your own bedroom." Draco closed the door with a slight slam while continuing, "I assume Dumbledore already explained what happened to me and what I did to deserve this, so I'm not going to divulge in the lovely tale," Draco grumbled.

William snickered as Draco kept talking, "And please, please hang with us! Gouge the old man for everything he's worth. He deserves it."

The tutor took a breath to say something, but he heard Draco start to walk away. Suddenly, Draco sharply turned around, unfinished with his broody rant, "You know what? Obviously Dumbledore forgot to spin the borderline hostile act of hiring a bloody _blind guy_ to tutor the creep-show he stuck in here."

William laughed to himself, and then Draco finished as he said, "Oh, and as for History of Magic? I think I'll take a pass."

Draco stomped away, leaving the blind man in the middle of the hallway. William was silent as he listened to Draco trudge upstairs and slam his door like a child.

The tutor sighed and muttered, "Nice to meet _you_."

* * *

Another week went by at Grimmauld Place and Draco was about to punch through a wall. Luckily, William ignored Draco when it came to tutoring, and didn't push him to start. He caught on quick that Draco was _not_ one to be messed with.

Draco was practically suffocating in this place, and he was desperate to get out. He decided that he would go find Millicent and force her to take back the curse. Draco learned his lesson. He knew what it was like to be unattractive, and he knew what is was like to be ridiculed. Two weeks was enough. She would have to give in! Luckily, that day was Hogsmeade day, and everyone would be there. Even Millicent.

Draco dressed in dark clothes, and climbed out of his window. Once he hit the grass, Draco deeply inhaled the fresh oxygen. It was a great relief to him and his lungs to finally be outside of the God-forsaken house, and away from the stuffy air. The air was crisp and cold, and he could feel the early signs of Autumn setting in. He almost forgot that he was in broad daylight and in a Muggle neighborhood, nonetheless. He put on his hood, and jogged to an alleyway. Once the coast was clear, he took out his wand and apparated away.

Draco blinked, and he found himself standing in an alleyway beside The Three Broomsticks. The streets of Hogsmeade were bustling with witches and wizards. He wondered how on Earth was he going to find Millicent and manage to stay incognito. His stomach dropped as he remembered that Millicent was still in the hospital. How was he supposed to get to her without another Madam Pomfrey fiasco? He racked his brain for a solution until he heard a nasally voice call out his name.

 _"Malfoy?"_

Draco snapped his head around and saw Millicent standing outside of the entryway to the pub. She gasped as he faced her, and tried to escape. He deftly grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the alleyway. She tried to fight back and scream, but he put a hand over mouth and was he was unphased by her protesting. Once he got her to the back of the alleyway, he released her.

She whipped around to face him and shouted, "What in the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?!"

"I need you to end the curse!" Draco answered.

"Yeah right," Millicent began, trying to break away. Draco was too quick, and he violently pushed against her shoulders and pinned her against the wall.

"Two weeks is enough, bitch! I've learned my lesson!" Draco yelled in her face.

"You've learned _nothing_!" Millicent bit back.

The two Slytherins glared at each other. Draco exhaled with annoyance as he released his grip.

He then said with a lowered voice, "Listen, I'm _begging_ you. Please end it."

Millicent raised a single eyebrow in response, unmoved by his groveling.

Draco threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Fine, Millicent! You got me! I now know what it's like to be ugly! I got a taste of my own medicine. It sucks. I'm sorry. You happy?"

Millicent chuckled quietly and rolled her eyes. "You still haven't changed. You still only care about yourself and how you look on the outside. You need to find someone to love you for the _inside_."

"Well, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to find someone if I look like _this_?" Draco gestured to himself. "I _see_ myself, and I _see_ a hideous beast incapable of love, even for the inside!"

"Find someone who can _see_ better than _you_ can," Millicent quietly responded. This girl was serious. Draco must find someone to somehow love him, or he'd be doomed to this curse forever. Millicent was not going to budge.

He rubbed his temples and sighed. "Making people love me was a lot easier when I was Head Boy and I looked good."

Millicent laughed. "Draco, are you _that_ blind? Your Slytherin disciples didn't _love_ you. They _feared_ you."

Draco looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. "Of course they loved me! They _idolized_ me!"

Millicent only sighed. "Come with me."

The girl walked past him and went into The Three Broomsticks. Draco suspiciously followed her, and ducked his head into the dimly lit pub, careful to conceal his face. He sat beside Millicent in a chair at the dark corner of the room. Once he was settled, Millicent cocked her head to a group of Slytherin students sitting at a table across from them. All of them were laughing and talking excitedly.

Millicent spoke softly, " _You_ have been the main subject of everyone's gossip."

"Well I'm sure they're concerned for their Head Boy," Draco grunted.

"Not exactly."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Millicent reached into her pocket. She pulled out her wand and chanted an eavesdropping charm. The two could then hear the table of Slytherins perfectly. Draco closed his mouth and listened intently.

 _"Oi! Now that Malfoy is gone, we can finally eat our dinner in peace."_

 _"Yeah, it's nice to know that I can enjoy my meal without having to exalt him at the same time."_

 _"Merlin! His ego had to be fed every five seconds!"_

 _"If he were here, I'd bet he'd have us sacrificing our first born by now."_

The table of Slytherins laughed. Draco stood up to leave, but Millicent grabbed his wrist as the Slytherins spoke again.

 _"And honestly, what was he going to do if we didn't follow him?"_

 _"He'd do what he has always done: destroy people socially, emotionally, and mentally."_

 _"I hated how we let him control us like that. But I hate the man even more."_

Draco winced at the comment. "We're done here," he growled, but Millicent hushed him. Draco rolled his eyes and reluctantly listened again.

 _"You have to admit, though, that he was attractive."_

 _"And he knew it too. I mean he bloody wanted us to honor him **because**_ _of his good looks."_

 _"Honestly, I'd sooner honor a deformed troll. I don't care if Malfoy is the most beautiful creature to walk this planet; he is a bloody prat."_

 _"And his obsession with blood status made it worse! He'd kiss a basilisk before he'd respect a muggle born."_

 _"He's no better than a Death Eater. So I guess he is where he belongs now."_

 _"I just hope they catch the blighter and give him the Dementor's Kiss."_

 _"Best embrace the_ _ **suck**_ _, Malfoy!"_

The Slytherins erupted with laughter, and Draco was speechless. He was seething with anger, and started to stomp over to the table. He would give these bloody wankers a piece of his mind! Millicent quickly grabbed his arm and warned, "If you do that, you will only prove their point."

Draco looked at Millicent. He'd never say it, but Millicent was right. And maybe that group of Slytherins were right as well. It didn't matter that he was good looking. It didn't matter that he was rich. And it didn't even matter if he was pureblood. He was a monster to them, and they hated him. Draco now realized that he _was_ in fact _as aggressively unattractive outside as he was inside._

Millicent and Draco slowly exited the pub, and entered the alleyway. "Learn from your mistakes, and learn to love," Millicent said to him. Draco remained silent.

Millicent stepped away and said, "See you in a year. " She turned around and walked away from the alley, leaving Draco alone.

* * *

Draco apparated back to Grimmauld Place, still stunned about what he had heard that day. He walked through the front door, and started to run up the stairs to his room. On the way, he heard the faint sound of deep thuds against the wall of the drawing room. Puzzled, he walked in to see William throwing darts at a dartboard, and he was hitting the center consistently. Draco couldn't do that even _with_ his eyesight!

Draco scrunched up his face is confusion. "You're kidding, right? How do you do that?" Draco guffawed.

William threw another dart and answered sarcastically, "I was at this party, and some Death Eater chick gave me the Bulls-Eye curse."

Draco snickered, "Bite me."

William chuckled as he threw his last dart. "Oh hey! Now that you're back-" the tutor grabbed a book from the table beside him and tossed it in the direction of Draco, "want to learn something?" William walked over to the dartboard.

Draco caught the book and eyed it. "No," Draco curtly said, putting the book back on the table.

"Be careful," William started, feeling for the darts, "Lose your smarts, and trolls will be making jokes about _you._ " The tutor walked back and assumed his position in front of the dartboard.

"Like I'd care. My own housemates would respect a troll over me, so it can't get much worse," Draco retorted.

"Find that out at Hogsmeade?" William asked, throwing a dart.

Draco gaped at him. "How-"

"I can't see, but I'm not _blind,_ " The tutor answered.

The two stopped talking, and the silence was only filled when a dart hit the board. After awhile, Draco spoke up, "I've been taught all my life that how much people like you is directly proportional to what you look like."

Draco paused as William threw another dart. Draco closed his eyes and grunted, "but they _hated_ me."

William stopped throwing darts and looked in Draco's direction. He gave a sympathetic look and said, "High school unquestionably sucks arse."

Draco quickly shook his head and asked, " _You_ went to regular school?"

"Yes. I went to Hogwarts, in fact." William threw another dart. "But in my sixth year Potions class, there was an accident and I lost my sight. There was nothing Madam Pomfrey or any healer at St. Mungo's could do. Irreparable damage was done, and I couldn't afford a magical eye like what Moody had. I was hopeless." The tutor threw his last dart with a small huff. He continued, "But living Hell has its upsides."

"Like better hearing?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. I quit school and threw myself into Muggle studies. Turns out, blind Muggles get on exceptionally well so I started living among them. I started tutoring not only Witches and Wizards, but Muggles too. I taught English, History, Mathematics, etc. I then learned that my other senses were enhanced, and I could live comfortably." William paused and then added, "Oh, and another upside is that chicks dig blind guys."

Draco scoffed and replied, "Yeah, too bad they don't dig _ugly_ guys."

William turned to Draco's direction. "How do you know?"

Draco paused for a bit, and then sighed. He started to walk away. But for some unknown reason, Draco stopped short when he recalled the last thing Granger, of all people, said to him: _What can I say? I'm substance over style._


	6. From a Distance

Draco was brooding away as he sat at the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place. It had been a horrible week for him, and now that he knew that his own housemates loathed him, despite his looks, he felt even worse. Draco was miserable.

At that moment, he was tapping his fingers impatiently against the wooden table, waiting for Isabella to finish making dinner. He slouched in his seat as he glared at the housekeeper's back. He was annoyed that she insisted on making dinner manually. She had always claimed that it made the food taste better, but Draco did not buy it.

Draco then heard the sound of water pouring next to him. He glanced to his left and saw William pouring water into his glass. Draco got increasingly anxious as the liquid filled the glass, anticipating the moment it would pour over. Once it reached the tip, William pulled the pitcher back and Draco sighed in relief. Suddenly, the blind man tipped the pitcher to pour again. Draco jerked out his arm to stop him but William just started to giggle.

"Just wanted to see how far you'd let me go," the tutor said while putting the pitcher down, "No pun intended."

Draco scoffed and grunted out, "Arsewipe."

"Honestly, you have the humor of a goblin. I'm just trying to lessen the waves of 'brood' I keep getting from your direction."

"Well, it's probably because I'm starving, and Isabella is moving at a glacial pace!" Draco barked.

Isabella laughed from her position at the stove, stirring a pot of soup. "Your whining doesn't make it go any faster," she called from over her shoulder.

"And you know what _will_? This little thing called magic!" Draco retorted.

William interjected, "Come on, Draco-"

"No!" Draco stood up. "You take twice as long to do things than it would normally take if done with magic! You're worse than a house elf! Why don't you use magic, Isabella?" he asked in an angry voice to her back. His biting words shocked the air, and he saw Isabella's shoulders jump in response.

The tutor stood up as well. "Draco-" he started in a stern voice, but Isabella stopped him.

"Well I guess he should know," she said while turning around. She faced William and spoke, "I have to tell him, Will."

The tutor softened, and left the kitchen with a sigh. Draco _scrunched_ his face in confusion as Isabella turned off the stove walked over to him. She slowly sat down and folded her hands on the table. Looking at her fingers she began, "The truth is that I have no idea how to use magic. I am a Muggle."

Draco huffed in disbelief. He opened his mouth to react, but the housekeeper kept talking. "The reason Dumbledore didn't hire some old witch or wizard to be a housekeeper is because _I_ know exactly what you're going through, and how to deal with it."

She looked up at Draco. She was relieved to see him silent, intently listening.

Isabella deeply exhaled and continued, "The man I love was cast with the Unbeautify curse two years ago. He, like you, was narcissistic to the core. He was attractive, and he knew it. He treated women like objects and took a new one to bed practically every week. Much to his misfortune, one witch that he took to bed gave him the Unbeautify curse when she found out he slept with another woman not three days later. He was under the same condition as you are; find someone to love him in a year, or he would be cursed forever. He was an agent for Voldemort at the time, and in the state that he was in, he couldn't serve any longer. He fled here to Muggle London and took refuge. He eventually advertised for a housekeeper, and specifically a Muggle one. He feared that if he hired someone touched with magic, they would find out about his status with Voldemort, though at the time, he was on the run. I applied, and I got an interview. It was held on the phone, and I got the job.

I moved in the following week, and I didn't actually meet the man until a month later. We were communicating only through letters and whenever he had to face me, he wore a mask. It was very strange. Further, his disposition was gruff and rude. We did not particularly get along and we tried to leave each other alone as much as possible. However, one day I walked into his room and I saw him without his mask on. I braced myself, expecting him to scream at me or even hurt me. I was surprised to find his face softened, and he actually looked quite crestfallen; like he _lost_ something. I later learned that he expected me to shriek in horror, and flee. But when I didn't, he looked up at me in surprise. Yes, he was extremely deformed. Interestingly, he looked very different from you. His face drooped to one side, and he had a black eye the size of a baseball. Warts were sporadically placed around his face and his back was hunched. Patches of hair were interspersed across his head. The only thing that he had in common with you was his tattoo on his left arm."

Draco glanced down at his arm. The leaves on the tree were starting to fall, as the Dark Mark intertwined with it was still gleaming. Draco winced at the mark as Isabella continued.

"I was curious. In fact, I was intrigued. Especially by the fact that he was so exposed and frightened in that moment, and I knew that the only reason he was secluded from me was because he was afraid he'd lose me. Over time, we grew close. He told me about the Magical World and he showed me incredible things. After months of living together, I grew to love him. However, I couldn't tell him for I feared my feelings were unrequited. Suddenly, he had to leave. He woke up in the middle of the night screaming in agony. When I checked on him, he told me he had to go and he didn't know how long he would be gone. He wouldn't tell me why, and he wouldn't let me come with him. Heartbroken, I moved out. A month after no word from him, I got a letter from him. I read it, and I learned that he had been summoned by Voldemort the night he left. He wrote that once he answered the calling and apparated to him, Voldemort tried to kill him. He fled, and had been on the run. He told me that the reason he didn't come back to me was because the Dark Lord could constantly track him, and he didn't want Voldemort to get to me. With me being a Muggle, and with Voldemort's pure hatred _for_ Muggles, it was exponentially more risky.

Eventually, he explained his curse to me. The reason that Voldemort was able to summon him was because the witch that cursed him was also an agent of Voldemort. She told the Dark Lord, and he was able to track him, though his old identity was gone. He then explained that the curse would be permanent after a year. He wrote that by the time his letter got to me, the year would be up."

Isabella suddenly choked up and put a hand to her mouth. She closed her eyes and muffled cries escaped her throat. After a minute of silence filled with soft sobs, she took her hand away and spoke again through streaming tears, "I realized that he sacrificed himself to keep _me_ safe. He could've come back to me, or I could've gone with him, and maybe by then I could've gained enough bloody courage to tell him how I felt! He doomed himself to permanent disfiguration because he knew that I loved him, and would follow him to the end of the Earth. But he loved _me_ enough to leave me behind. He loved me enough to let me go. Can you imagine _that_ love?"

Isabella put a hand to her chest. " To this day, he is on the run from Voldemort, still in his wretched state. There is a hole in my heart and I pray every single day to _something_ that he will return to me, ugly or not."

Draco was shell shocked. He remained silent, processing Isabella's story in his mind. This man learned to love beyond himself. He loved Isabella enough that he sacrificed any hope of returning back to his normal state, just to protect her. Draco couldn't comprehend that kind of deep, passionate love because he had never before felt it, nor did he know that it even existed. He answered Isabella's question in his mind, for he could _not_ imagine _that love_.

"That's why Dumbledore sent you here?" Draco asked in a low voice.

Isabella nodded, and then spoke softly, "Yes. To teach you that love is not a transaction; you cannot make a bargain and expect anything in return. Love is selfless. Love is sacrifice. If you go into this with the ultimate goal of your curse being lifted, then your curse will not break, for it's not true love. It is _conditional_ love. To truly learn and grow, you must learn to love _unconditionally_. If by the end you have learned, it will not matter to you if you're still disfigured or not. True love surpasses all things physical."

Isabella expected Draco to say something sarcastic in response to her story. But he didn't. Draco himself was surprised that he didn't brush her off or roll his eyes. In fact, Draco was floored and didn't know what to say.

Isabella snickered, "Alright, I'll step off my soap box for now. Goodnight." Isabella left the room, leaving Draco, and the soup on the stove, cold.

* * *

Hermione had a blaring migraine after the late night meeting with Justin. With Halloween less than a week away, they were nearing crunch time with planning the party in the Great Hall. After nearly two hours of arguing with Justin, they got to an almost-compromise; Justin was in charge of everything, but Hermione got music and decorations.

Hermione rubbed her temples, trying to massage the pain away. She looked out the window of the Head Boy and Girl office and saw the twinkling lights of Hogsmeade on the horizon.

She sighed. She missed Hogsmeade day because Justin kept her in for an urgent meeting. This "urgent" meeting was merely about dress code, and Hermione wanted to rip the suggestion box off of the wall and clobber Justin with it.

The Head Girl glanced at her watch. It was nearly midnight, and well past curfew. Hermione had always entertained the idea of sneaking off to Hogsmeade in the late hours of the night by herself. She never did because it was way too out-of-character. However, she was feeling rebellious that night and thought she should ruffle Justin's feathers a bit by breaking the rules.

Hermione went to her room and changed out of her school robes. She put on jeans, boots, and a blouse. On top, she wore a button up coat and a wool beanie. Before she left her room, she pocketed her wand and coin purse. The girl tiptoed her way out of the Gryffindor common room and into the main hallway. She held her breath as she walked outside. Hermione felt the bite of Autumn air hit her face as she ran across the courtyard. Once her feet hit the grass, she audibly exhaled. She was officially off of school grounds. Hermione turned around to face the castle and a bubble of laughter escaped her throat. She was practically giddy that she was breaking the rules, and without Harry Potter to lead her; she was doing this because _she_ wanted to.

Hermione then headed towards Hogsmeade. Once she reached the village, Hermione was shocked to see the usually bustling town so quiet and tranquil. Street lights emitted a yellow glow from both sides of the street. Leaves softly fell from the trees and to the cobblestone ground. The only noise that was heard was her own boots crunching against the leaves. Hermione was in awe. She skipped her way through the streets, forgetting herself completely. She almost felt like she was in Muggle London with her mum, window shopping and walking through the city. Hermione felt like a child again as she danced with reckless abandon through Hogsmeade. She later was grateful that no one was there to watch her.

She eventually smelled the delicious aroma of Butterbeer. She inhaled deeply, trying to find the source of the smell. She turned and saw The Three Broomsticks. As the smell of Butterbeer wafted from inside the inn, Hermione immediately was drawn in. Once inside, she admired the warm atmosphere, relief from the cold outside. Only about a dozen people were inside. She sat down at the bar and ordered a Butterbeer. As she waited for her drink, she noticed two figures in dark hoods sitting at the end of the bar, whispering about something. Hermione knew she shouldn't have, but she chanted an eavesdropping charm under her breath. She was feeling rebellious, and eavesdropping wouldn't hurt anyone. As her drink arrived, Hermione leaned in to listen.

 _We cannot discuss this here! It's too public!_

 _I don't care! I want out of this!_

 _I cannot help you! Leaving the Death Eaters is not a delicate matter._

Hermione choked on her Butterbeer. Were these people Death Eaters? Hermione panicked but tried to appear calm on the outside. She slowly reached for her wand to attack them until one of them spoke again.

 _You know that the only reason I helped you was so I could teach Draco Malfoy a lesson!_

Hermione's breath stopped short, wand in hand. She thought she had forgotten about Draco, and now suddenly memories of him came flooding back into her mind. She was lost in thought until a flash of red came flying to her face.

Hermione snapped out of it and dodged the spell. People inside the inn were started screaming and running out. She called out Stupefy, but the Death Eaters dodged it. Sparks of colored light were flying between Hermione and the two Death Eaters. They managed to dodge every single one of Hermione's spells, and then they started to retreat. Hermione chased them out of the inn but lost sight of them.

Hermione bent over and put her hands on her knees. She was hyperventilating, shocked that Death Eaters were _here._ However, her mind was still swimming at the mention of Malfoy's name. Was he alive? Who was teaching him a "lesson", and about what? She stood up and shook her head out. She needed to focus on the task at hand and tell Dumbledore about the Death Eaters. With the herd of villagers pouring out of the inn and the cottages surrounding her, it was difficult to navigate through the panicked crowd and out of the village. Eventually, she made it to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and then sprinted to the castle.

* * *

Draco's mind was still reeling about Isabella's story. He sat in the kitchen completely silent. After awhile, the room felt incredibly stuffy and he needed to get out. Draco grabbed and put on a black coat with a hood. He then snatched his wand as he exited Grimmauld Place.

It was dark, and the streets of this part of London were barren. His only source of light were the sporadic street lamps and the stars. Draco slid on his hood and then walked slowly down the street, looking down at the concrete below him. Soon, he entered the city. It was still quiet, but the streets were much busier. Draco had to make an effort to not be seen. Many times he had to pretend he was tying his shoe or checking his watch. There were moments where he had to just put his hands in his pockets, and pin his chin to his chest looking down, hoping no one would see him. It was odd for Draco to not want to be seen when he was so used to being the center of attention. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and yet he had to find a way to blend himself into the cityscape. He eventually got frustrated with the effort to hide and moved into an alleyway.

Draco got out his wand to apparate back to the safe house, but he found himself thinking about Hogsmeade. Thus, he apparated to the very location. He looked around and saw that he was on the path to the village outside of Hogwarts. Draco was confused, and then cursed himself for not concentrating enough and letting his mind wander. Draco was about to disapparate until he heard someone coming. In a panic, Draco lept through the tree line beside the path to hide. He took out his wand to try to disapparate again, but he stopped when he saw who was coming.

Draco gasped as he saw Granger walk into Hogsmeade village. What was _she_ doing here so late in the night? She was putting herself in danger! She was lucky she hadn't been killed yet! He knew he should have tried to get her back to the castle but Draco's curiosity got the better of him, and he emerged from the trees to follow her into the village. He navigated through the village about twenty feet behind Granger. He saw how awestruck she was by the village, and how she skipped through the streets. She stared with delight at the street lanterns and the window displays of the shops. Draco smiled at the sight. He wondered how she saw the village as some sort of Wonderland. It was nothing special. It was just like any other town, and at this hour it was just empty. She seemed to find this ordinary village as something beautiful.

 _Find someone who can see better than you can._ Millicent's words echoed through his mind. He wondered if Granger, of all people, could be that someone. That person who could look beneath appearances, and see the beauty inside.

Draco laughed as the brown-eyed girl started dancing her way through the village. She was twirling and leaping, and it made Draco feel warm. He was taken aback because the last time he felt warm was when Granger held his face in her porcelain white hands that day in the office.

He watched her suddenly stop dancing, and turn towards The Three Broomsticks. She seemed to be sniffing the air, and she started to follow the scent. Draco inhaled through his nose, and he smelled the inviting scent of Butterbeer. He chuckled at how Granger was entranced by the smell. She must love Butterbeer. Draco followed her inside and sat at a table in a dark corner. Granger sat at the bar and ordered a drink.

Draco sat in his corner and observed her. She seemed to be oddly reckless that night. If he were still Head Boy, technically he would have to report her for leaving the grounds after curfew. Draco was just astonished that it was _Granger_ breaking the rules this time. He was bewitched at how she moved through the village. Her golden curls bounced every time she skipped, and they whirled around her head every time she spun. He realized that he had never before seen her like that. She was usually so conservative, and she tried to not be seen. But at that moment, she let go of any apprehension and became carefree and childlike. She probably thought that no one was watching her, but she had no idea that she was very wrong.

Draco then noticed that Granger was slightly leaning to the right. She scrunched up her nose and narrowed her eyes. She seemed to be focusing on something, but what? His eyes flicked to the right and saw two dark figures talking lowly to each other. Draco smiled when he realized that Granger was eavesdropping. But Draco's smile disappeared when he inspected the two figures. They looked uncomfortably familiar. Draco stood up and tried to look nonchalant as he moved closer. He was right behind Granger when recognized the figures as Millicent Bulstrode and Bellatrix Lestrange.

He heard his name in their conversation, and he gasped. Both of their heads whipped around at the sound, and Millicent's eyes widened. She raised her wand to cast a spell, but Bellatrix jerked Millicent's arm away. This caused the spell to head into the direction of Granger. Draco called out, but she dodged the spell.

Draco tried to cast a spell, but a wave of panicked villagers pushed him outside. He stumbled into the alleyway beside the inn. Fear seized him as he saw sparks of colored light fly through the window of The Three Broomsticks. He silently prayed that Granger would be alright.

He then saw Millicent and Bellatrix emerge from the inn, and started to run away. Draco was relieved to see Granger come out as well. He watched her run towards the castle, and Draco desperately wanted to follow her. However, he needed to take care of Millicent and his aunt. Draco sprinted through the streets, going against the current of villagers trying to escape Hogsmeade. He saw the two Death Eaters turn into an alleyway, and Draco followed them. They were taking out their wands when Draco reached them.

"Why are you here?!" Millicent interrogated, pointing her wand at him. Bellatrix shoved Millicent's arm down.

"Do not hurt him," Bellatrix hissed.

Millicent glared at her. Draco's aunt then spoke, "Why _are_ you here, Draco? You are putting yourself in jeopardy! Oh, by the way, you're doing a really horrid job of keeping the mudblood in the castle!"

Draco deflected the question. "Never mind that! Why are _you_ here?"

"Millicent and I had important matters to discuss, and it was her bloody brilliant idea to meet in Hogsmeade!"

Millicent defended herself. "It's not my fault this place is so busy! It's midnight, for Merlin's sake!"

Bellatrix turned to the girl. "It's still a public place!"

"Well, we couldn't go in the Forbidden Forest because your bloody Death Eaters are there!" Millicent barked. Bellatrix rubbed her forehead because she knew Millicent was right. It would have been too risky.

Bellatrix sighed and turned to Draco. "Anyway, this little fracas has caused Hogsmeade to go haywire. The Death Eaters in the woods will no doubt notice. I suggest you tell Dumbledore about what happened, and I'll try to do some damage control with the Death Eaters," Bellatrix pulled out her wand and continued, "And Draco, I also suggest that you keep an eye on Granger. The date of the infiltration is no longer set in stone. And make sure she stays _in_ the castle! Luckily the Death Eaters in the forest are so daft, they haven't recognized her yet."

Draco only nodded as Bellatrix apparated away. Millicent, however, didn't leave yet. She asked Draco, "Why _did_ you come here?"

Draco clenched his jaw and cleared his throat. He remained silent.

Millicent smiled and asked, "It was to see Granger, no?"

Draco's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name. He unintentionally blushed.

Millicent laughed. "Maybe there _is_ hope for you," she stated. Draco looked up at her, but she had already apparated away.


	7. I Am No More

There was a knot in her side and a burning in her chest as Hermione reached the courtyard of Hogwarts. She sprinted the entire way from Hogsmeade, and her legs felt heavy from fatigue. She leaned against a stone pillar to catch her breath. As Hermione rested, she listened to the chaos from the village. People started evacuating in a panic when the Death Eaters revealed themselves at The Three Broomsticks. Hermione cursed herself for letting them get away. She hoped to Merlin that the Death Eaters didn't hurt anyone.

Hermione closed her eyes as she realized that she could've been murdered that night. She almost forgot that she had a large bounty on her head from Voldemort, and since she wasn't on school grounds, nothing could've protected her. It was truly a rude awakening at the inn when she suddenly had to act quickly, as a flash of red sparks came hurtling toward her face. Her only defense was her own knowledge of Defense against the Dark Arts. Luckily, tagging along with Harry Potter had gained her enough experience to hold her own. But she was so used to the primary threat on Harry so she only had to ever deal with secondary attacks. She was not used to being the prime target.

Hermione opened her eyes as she heard the noise from Hogsmeade increase exponentially. No doubt everyone in the village was awake now and was desperately trying to leave. She jerked her head around as she heard chattering and footsteps from inside the castle. Hermione swore under her breath as students came pouring out into the courtyard, curious by the noise.

Hermione pushed her way through the ocean of students, and into the castle. Once inside the main entrance, she saw Justin frantically commanding students to go back to their dormitories. Hermione laughed as he waved his arms like a madman, trying to gain control while no one paid him even a lick of attention. She started running to Dumbledore's office until she heard the mighty, and fearless Head Boy shout her name.

"Miss. Granger!" Justin maneuvered his way to Hermione. "Miss. Granger, can you please assist me in corralling the students back to their dormitories?"

"I can't. I need to see Dumbledore immediately," Hermione replied flatly, turning away.

Justin was insulted. "I simply ask you to do your job as Head Girl and-"

"I don't bloody care, Justin! Get the Prefects to help! The reason the students are out of bed is because the sound of Hogsmeade going mad awoke them! Obviously, something is very wrong and the first thing that needs to be done is to inform the Headmaster. And as Head Girl and Boy, it is _our_ responsibility to. Maybe you'd know that if your head wasn't up your arse all the time!" Hermione bit back.

She whipped around and headed on her way again. She didn't see Justin's reaction but she could safely bet that she would receive a detention slip from him by morning. Hermione felt a burst of renewed energy after she confronted him, though. If the current Hogsmeade fiasco happened at the beginning of the year, she would probably be _with_ the Head Boy trying to get students back to bed. But she was feeling rebellious and out of control, and for once she let it happen. She wondered why she was feeling a sudden sense of abandon, and then she accidentally let Draco Malfoy slip into her thoughts. She thought that maybe he had a reckless influence on her. But Hermione shook her head at the memory of him, angry that he once again entered her mind.

Once she got to the entrance of Dumbledore's office, she spoke the password and then quickly climbed the staircase. She burst into the room without knocking. Dumbledore quickly turned to face the door, alarmed by the Head Girl's urgency.

"Miss Granger, why-"

"Sir! There has been a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade!"

The Headmaster's breath stopped short, fearing that it was the Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest attacking early.

"How many?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.

"Two. They didn't really put up much of a fight, but they got away."

Dumbledore exhaled in relief. So it was _not_ the army of Death Eaters in the woods. By his intuition, he guessed that it was Bellatrix and Millicent. He glanced up as Hermione continued.

"What should we do, Headmaster? Hogsmeade has gone haywire, and the students will no doubt start speculating. Not to mention, that _Death Eaters_ are here!" Hermione started to pace the floor. "We _need to_ tighten up security; assign more people for rounds, have professor's keep watch, assign guards to..."

Dumbledore started pondering as Hermione kept speaking. Normally he would agree with her, but unfortunately, the situation at hand was complicated. Tightening security would no doubt alert the Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest, and they would be suspicious. He could not tell Hermione, for she would most likely try to stop the threat and therefore put herself in danger.

Dumbledore put his hand up to stop Hermione. She did and looked at the Headmaster quizzically. He began to speak. "Miss. Granger, I will handle this situation but I'm afraid we cannot tighten security."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What?"

"It would be too suspicious to the students, and I do not want them any more frightened after the past Death Eater attack. As for Hogsmeade, I will send for Aurors to take care of villagers. Beyond that, there is nothing else to do."

Hermione was stunned. This was so unlike him! What he suggested was bordering cowardly, and it made Hermione almost sick. She scoffed, appalled. "So you're saying that it's better to ignore the danger than to _face_ it? To stick our thumbs up our arse and pretend like everything is fine? This goes against everything Hogwarts teaches!"

"Miss Granger-"

"Honestly, sir! It's so wrong, that it almost feels like there is something you're not telling me!" Hermione scanned Dumbledore's face for a reaction. He stayed still, but his silence was enough evidence. He, again, was keeping something from her.

Hermione exhaled in frustration. "Of course. I'm in the dark, as usual. I've done what I came here to do, and I will now take my leave." The girl turned around and headed for the door. But before she could turn the handle, Dumbledore called out to her.

"Miss. Granger, wait."

She turned around obediently to face the Headmaster. He had a soft expression as he quietly asked, "How do you feel about Draco Malfoy?"

A wave of memories and emotions came crashing onto Hermione, and she suddenly felt like she was drowning. The mere mention of his name made her stomach lurch with longing, and pain. It made her angry that he had such an effect on her even while he was gone. Through gritted teeth, she answered, "What do you mean?"

"How do you feel about his rank in the Death Eaters? Or how do you feel about him in general?"

Hermione was puzzled. It was such an odd question from Dumbledore, of all people, but she no doubt had an answer. If she were truthful, she'd say that she was infatuated with Draco Malfoy. Even though he had been a Death Eater all along, he still took up Hermione's mind, no matter how hard she tried to erase him. However, she secretly _liked_ that he couldn't get out of her head. What happened in the Head Boy and Girl office _happened_ , and sometimes Hermione let herself forget that what she felt that night was one-sided. She let herself forget that he didn't actually want to kiss her. And when she did this, she forgot why she needed to forget Draco Malfoy in the first place.

Again, Hermione's fingertips lightly skimmed her lips, yearning for a touch that she had never felt, yet missed so much. When she realized what she was doing, she balled up her fist in frustration and jerked it down. No more! She refused to be controlled by Draco Malfoy in that way. She needed to remember that her secret fantasy was unrealistic, and would never happen. He did _not_ feel the same way, and she had to move on. He was long gone now, and there was nothing else she could do. She couldn't save him. Yet, there was a small part of her that still had hope in him. _Something_ stopped him from killing Dumbledore, and that small part of Hermione refused to think that it was an act for a grander scheme. She squinted her eyes shut as she felt tears welling behind them.

Dumbledore put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Hermione jerked away and answered Dumbledore's first question. "Draco Malfoy has been a narcissistic, truculent, supercilious prat to me, and that will never change! Despite what you _think_ , I've never made him vulnerable and I've never had any influence on him. He would never let a _mudblood_ do that to him, for he is ruled by blood prejudice! And this is evident! Just look at how he has treated me these past six years! And he is now a bloody _Death Eater_ ; he swears to his soul that Muggle-borns are worth less than the dirt under his feet. People _like_ _me._ He is where he belongs now."

Hermione fled the office. She had a sour taste in her mouth after what she just said, because she knew that it was not how she actually felt about Draco Malfoy. She would never say it, but she silently believed that he did _not_ belong with the Death Eaters; he belonged to _her._

* * *

Draco was irritated that he let Millicent see him blush. He was even more irritated that he blushed because Granger crossed his mind. How she made him feel was so foreign to him, it was almost uncomfortable. Watching her that night, seeing her be carefree and lively, made his knees weak and his stomach flutter. She made him feel like a schoolboy having his first crush, and it made him want to vomit.

Wasn't this how he was supposed to feel for Pansy? Or at least a pureblood girl? Draco closed his eyes as he pictured how his father would react to this. _"Feelings for a_ _ **mudblood?!**_ _Intolerable! Preposterous!"_ he would hiss. He'd drag Draco to the family Healer to be "fixed". Draco would then be forced to go through a convoluted series of tests that would lead to several potions and charms that would "cure" Draco of his love for mudbloods.

The thought sent chills through Draco's body. Drops of cold sweat slithered down his forehead as the image of his father pulsed in his mind. Draco snapped his eyes shut, and shook out his head. He needed to focus and remember what he was doing. He had to tell Dumbledore of the Death Eater sighting.

He apparated himself to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk and jumped at Draco's sudden appearance.

"What are you doing here?" Dumbledore asked with alarm, standing up from his desk.

"Headmaster! There was-"

Dumbledore suddenly hushed him. In the silence, Draco could hear a familiar voice speaking the password to the office. "Miss. Granger is coming!" Dumbledore exclaimed. He started to usher Draco up the stairs to the second floor.

Draco's heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name, and what he came to the office to do suddenly seemed like nothing to him. All that mattered was that _Granger_ was here. Out of impulse, he asked Dumbledore, "Ask her how she feels about me!"

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "What?!"

"Please! It sounds crazy, but I may have a shot at _something_ with her."

Dumbledore was practically dragging Draco up the stairs. "She's about to come in!" he warned.

"Please!" Draco begged from the top landing.

Dumbledore sighed in agreement as the door opened. Dumbledore quickly turned to face Granger as Draco hid behind the wall by the stairs. He crouched down, trying to listen to their conversation.

Granger told Dumbledore about what happened at Hogsmeade. He noticed that she was getting increasingly anxious as she spoke, and he was shocked at her biting words to Dumbledore. She was angry, but she had every right to be. But she couldn't know the real situation. Though she would protest, her ignorance would keep her safe. However, Draco had a small wish to step out and reveal himself to her, and explain everything. She would know that he was her hidden protector all this time, and not with the Death Eaters. He hoped that she would accept his appearance, and look beyond the physical. And maybe even somehow start to love him. Isabella's words echoed in his mind: _True love surpasses all things physical._

Draco became nervous as he heard her footsteps walking away, and he was worried that Dumbledore wouldn't ask her how she felt about Draco. Fortunately, Dumbledore asked the question just as she was about to leave, all angry and frustrated. Draco quietly groaned. That wasn't exactly _the_ most delicate way to ask her. No doubt it would be a strange question to Granger, but he would at least get an answer.

Draco held his breath at Granger's silence. He was pleasantly surprised that she didn't immediately respond in a disgusted tone. But she was obviously thinking about how she felt. What he wouldn't give to know what was going through her mind. Was she indifferent? Did she despise him? Or by some miracle, did she have feelings for him?

Draco's hope began descending as Granger responded. His heart started to ache, and a small lump formed in his throat. Granger ended her tirade as she left the room with a slam. She _loathed_ him. Draco felt a little injustice in Granger's words until she spoke of his past; how he incessantly bullied her because of no reason except blood prejudice. Draco didn't how bad he had made her feel these past six years. He had no idea that he made her feel like worthless scum. The fact that he _hurt_ her like that stung Draco to the core. And it didn't matter if he looked like it or not, he was a _monster_ to her. Draco remembered the Slytherins at The Three Broomsticks and how they also despised him, despite his looks. Draco then learned that not only did love surpass all things physical, but _hate_ did too.

Draco stood slowly and walked downstairs, trying to put on a content face. He met Dumbledore on the main floor. "Did you hear-" Dumbledore began.

Draco cut him off. "Yes."

Dumbledore only sighed with a sympathetic expression. He thought it best not to bring Miss. Granger's reaction up, for Draco looked more than crestfallen. Instead, he brought up the infiltration that would happen in a few days.

Draco couldn't hear what Dumbledore said, for Granger's words were still reeling in his mind, so he only nodded in response. He then slowly clutched his wand and apparated back to Grimmauld place.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. She hated what she said about him, though parts of it were true. It plagued her thoughts as she tossed, and turned in her bed. Suddenly, an ethereal stag and dog appeared from her window. They were running around her room, playfully chasing each other. Hermione recognized the stag as the patronus of Harry and the dog as the patronus of Ron. Hermione instantly got up and went over to the window. She opened it just in time as Hedwig came gliding through it with a letter in her talons. She dropped it on Hermione's desk and then flew out. Hermione inferred that she went to the Owlery, no doubt exhausted from the journey.

Hermione squealed with excitement as she opened the envelope. She hadn't heard from them in a week and was relieved that they finally sent word to her.

The latest news from them was that they weren't able to locate the locket, but they received information that one of the Horcruxes may be in Bellatrix's vault. Hermione couldn't help but feel like they would be making more progress if _she_ were there with them. She was still upset that neither Harry nor Ron told her why she was left behind. And even then, she was still in the dark. Dumbledore wouldn't tell her whatever secret he was keeping , and Harry and Ron most likely knew it as well. It would be so much easier if she just _knew_! But they all claimed it was protect her. Hermione knew that she _should_ feel grateful, but her annoyance overshadowed any gratitude.

She sat down at her desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to reply. She dipped her pen in ink and began to write. She wrote about the Death Eater attack and how Draco apparently forced Millicent to help him. She recounted how he disappeared after the attack without a trace. She also wrote about the Death Eater attack at Hogsmeade just barely.

However, she conveniently left out the part in the Head Boy and Girl office. She also left out telling of her true feelings about Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron would be absolutely livid, and Hermione chuckled at the thought. She almost wrote it down, for the sake of the boys' reaction. But, she remembered that she should be trying to forget about Draco Malfoy rather than confessing her feelings about him.

She ended the letter by asking them how they were, what they were doing, and all of the usual questions. She then put the parchment in an envelope and then labeled it. She got out her wand to cast her patronus until she realized that Hedwig was at the Owlery resting. Hermione should've let the poor owl rest, but Hermione was eager to send the letter out.

Hermione decided to sneak to the Owlery. She quietly exited her bedroom and tiptoed out of the Gryffindor common room. The halls were completely silent, for it was probably about two or three in the morning. Suddenly, she heard the sound of muffled grunts and sighs. Hermione stopped in her tracks, recognizing that sound all too well. One of the main things Hermione had to stop students from doing since she became Head Girl was public displays of affection, specifically snogging. Partly because it was utterly disgusting, and partly because she herself had never _been_ snogged, it was Hermione's least favorite thing to interrupt.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked toward the source of the sound. When she rounded the corner, she gasped as she saw the two culprits. It was Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson.

Out of sheer shock, Hermione was silent. She turned around, pretending that she had never seen them, and walked back to her room. She came to the conclusion that Hedwig needed rest, and that Draco Malfoy chose his friends very poorly.

* * *

Draco watched the sky shift from black to blue through his window as dawn broke. He laid in his bed, insomnia keeping him awake as he saw the sun take the place of the stars. His thoughts kept him up, and he was replaying Granger's words in his mind all night. It stung every time he did it, but he couldn't stop.

At around five in the morning, he decided to get up. He walked outside of his room, and down the hall. As he passed Will's room, his peripheral vision saw that the door was open. Draco turned toward the room and saw Will was getting dressed. Draco would later feel like a creep, but he watched the blind man in awe. Will was slipping on suspenders as Draco noticed that his clothes were perfectly matching. Ties were laying across a chair, and Will caressed his thumb over each of them, feeling the fabric for their pattern.

Will suddenly turned his head toward Draco. "Defying expectations, Blindie keeps up his bitchin' sense of style," Will said haughtily with a grin.

Draco jumped and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. He then cleared his throat and asked, "How do you that?"

Will shrugged as he turned back and selected a tie. "Don't know. Guess it's a holdover from my seeing days. Being blind can't stop me from looking good."

Draco huffed. "Point being: No matter what, how you look matters?"

The tutor started to tie the tie around his neck as he explained. " _Point being:_ It's not about how others look at _me_ ; it's about how _I_ look at _myself_." Will looked in Draco's direction, sensing his confusion. "Don't worry. One day it'll make sense," Will said with a smile.

Draco sighed and left the tutor alone. He walked downstairs and heard Kreacher muttering away from the drawing room. Draco slowly walked in and saw the house elf admiring the tapestry. Draco stood back and examined the family tree. He remembered when he came to Grimmauld Place weeks ago and seeing this. It gave him comfort at the time. Now, he looked at the tapestry with confusion.

The Malfoy and Black families were pureblood liberalists and treated anyone less than pureblood like dirt. They even disowned their own family members for being "blood traitors". Draco was practically nursed from infancy with ideas of pureblood glory and blood prejudice. He grew up thinking that mudbloods should be eradicated from the face of the Earth. These ideas were his motives to be awful to Muggle-borns at school. He had tortured students. And for something they couldn't control, and it was entertainment to him at the time. He felt like it was his duty. He knew his father would be proud of him for shaming a mudblood.

After what Will said, Draco looked back at his old self and realized that he _hated_ himself. What seemed so important to him at that time, is not now, and he would have to pay the consequences for what he had done. He felt sick as he remembered what Granger and his housemates said about him; what he did to them was horrendous, and it was all in the name of pureblood glory.

Draco's eyes slipped down to his portrait on the tapestry. What he saw wasn't a man, but a monster. Draco glared at his portrait and took out his wand. He then walked over to the tapestry, seething with anger, and guilt. He heard Kreacher leaving the room, muttering about blood traitors and mudbloods. Draco cringed after the house elf and then turned toward his picture. Draco slowly took his wand and burned his face on the tapestry. In its place was a singed spot of black. He was now disowned from his family. He was now a blood traitor.

Draco exhaled, feeling more liberated than he had ever before. He decided that Draco Malfoy was dead. Draco Malfoy, the pureblood prince, had ceased to exist. A new man with new values and morals was born. He took out his wand again, and burned the sentence next to his singed portrait: "I am no more."


	8. Affording Hope

Hermione sat in the Great Hall during dinner, looking over her list of songs to play at the Halloween party while taking small bites of a roll. She was attempting to focus on the set list but her mind kept wandering. Trying to concentrate became difficult after everything that had happened. From the Death Eater sighting to seeing Blaise and Pansy snogging, it was hard to pay attention to one thing at a time. Hermione got frustrated because the party was _that night_ , and she hardly had any songs down. She figured she'd have someone DJ for her since she didn't really have a taste in music. Would Justin let her, though?

Justin was still a pain in the arse, and he seemed to become more _of_ a pain every time she saw him. Not to mention he was still upset by the way Hermione snapped at him the other night.

And of course, the culprit that was keeping her from concentrating was Draco bloody Malfoy. He somehow always found a way to slither into her thoughts.

"Hey, hey! What did that bread roll ever do to you?" Ginny asked. Hermione snapped up at the question and then looked down to see her fist clenching the roll. It was just crumbs now.

Hermione sighed in embarrassment, letting the remains of the roll drop onto her plate. "Sorry. I'm just nervous for tonight."

"The party?" Neville asked from across the table.

Hermione nodded. Seamus then chimed in. "I don't think it's just that."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What makes you say that?"

"You just seem more tense than usual," he responded while taking a bite out of a chicken leg, "Don't tell me it's that time of the month."

Ginny's mouth dropped open as Hermione balled up her fist. She already had enough crap going on, so she did _not_ need this from Seamus! Hermione leaned over and swatted him in the head.

Seamus yelped at the impact. "Oi! Be gentle! I'm fragile!" Seamus whined, rubbing the side of his head.

"Yeah, _we know,"_ Hermione replied. Ginny and Neville burst into laughter.

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Ha. Ha. Yeah, I meant I was fragile... in a manly, muscular, chainsaw way."

"We both know I could take you in a fight," challenged Ginny with a smug grin.

Seamus just laughed. "You're not so tough without your brother and your boyfriend."

Ginny stood up. "You wanna bet, Finnegan?" She spoke with such terrifying ferocity.

Seamus was taken aback and he put his hands up."Calm down, Weasley. I was only playing around." Ginny unclenched her fist, and her face softened as she sat down again.

It was silent for one second until Seamus foolishly spoke again. "I was just saying that when girls are without their boyfriend for a long time-"

"Finish that sentence, I break your nose," Ginny growled.

Seamus ignored her, certain that she wouldn't keep her word,"-they tend to- OW!"

Ginny clocked Seamus on the side of the head, the side Hermione didn't swat at. Seamus now was rubbing both sides of his face in pain.

"You missed, Weasley. " Seamus pushed further.

"Want me to try again, Finnegan?" Ginny retorted, clenching her fist. Neville and Hermione were laughing so hard, their stomachs hurt. They only laughed harder when Seamus squealed and shook his head after Ginny threatened him again. Seamus didn't mean to, but he was relieving Hermione of all her stress.

Hermione almost forgot what _this_ felt like. _This_ , being friendship. She missed Harry and Ron terribly. Even though they left her, she knew that they cared for her and they did what they did to protect her. She would later wish that she had taken a mental snapshot of this moment with Seamus, Neville, and Ginny so she could keep the memory forever. Little did she know that this would be last time she would feel this in a long time.

* * *

Draco got increasingly anxious as he watched the sun dip below the horizon from his window. The closer the sky turned from orange to black, the closer the time for the infiltration got. Luckily, the recent Death Eater sighting a few days before hadn't caused the Death Eaters in the forest to attack early. However, the possible threat gave Draco an excuse to watch Granger. Every night he'd apparate to Hogwarts and sit in the courtyard. He could see the Head Girl's bedroom window from where he sat and he kept watch to see the light go out. That either meant that she went to bed or was planning to leave the grounds that night.

Draco always waited and was always relieved to see the golden haired girl sneak out into the courtyard every night. He knew that she was in danger every time she stepped out, but Draco was obsessed with just watching her be herself when she was alone. Or at least when she _thought_ she was alone. He'd hide behind a pillar as she cast Lumos on her wand. Her chocolate eyes lit up as she ran out of the courtyard, resembling a bird taking flight the moment its cage is opened. She was free and unrestrained.

He followed to see the girl dancing around, her soft giggles taking on the role of her music. Her feet were almost always airborne, and every once in awhile her toes kissed the ground beneath her. She always ended the night with stargazing on the Quidditch Field, and he'd secretly join her from a distance.

After an hour or two, he'd follow her back to the castle and waited until the light in her bedroom went out. Draco always hated that moment when he'd have to leave her. The moment when reckless, and free Hermione Granger turned back into restrained, and timid Hermione Granger; when the bird was put back in its cage.

Draco snapped back into reality, remembering that he was staring at his own window and not Granger's. He groaned, realizing that he practically personified a love sonnet whenever he thought of her. He put his head in his hands. Draco was almost used to how Granger made him feel- _almost._ The fact that she could control his emotions from miles away frightened him, and he wondered if he could ever affect _her_ like that.

But could she ever love someone like him- a beast not only on the outside but the inside too? Watching her in Hogsmeade a few nights ago gave him hope; her ability to see the rather normal looking village as a magical wonderland made Draco wonder if she could see ever see _him_ differently from how he appeared. But how could that ever be possible? After the infiltration, what would happen? He couldn't just go back to Hogwarts and she couldn't just leave school to stay with him.

Draco sat up and shook his head out. That night he needed to be focused. He had to protect Granger at all costs. Even if he could never see the girl again, he had to make sure that there was a girl still alive to miss.

Draco stood up, pocketed his wand, and left his bedroom. As he was stepping down the stairs, the doorbell rang. Draco froze in fear and confusion. Who on Earth would be at the door? To his horror, he saw Isabella open the door with Draco in clear eyeshot of the doorway! He tried to protest but it was too late.

Draco ran to the door to shut it but stopped when he saw a group of children in various costumes staring in awe at him. He heard a collective "Woaaah" from each of them. Suddenly, Isabella pushed Draco aside.

"Do you like his costume, kids?" she asked the children sweetly, clutching a large bowl full of candy. The children enthusiastically nodded, and then all held out empty pillowcases to Isabella.

She shook her head and asked, "What are the magic words?"

The children then exclaimed in unison, "Trick or treat!" Draco then remembered that it was bloody Halloween. He scoffed as Isabella dumped handfuls of candy into each of the children's pillowcases. Draco never really liked Halloween, specifically Muggles' version of Halloween. They made a mockery of the Wizarding World by dressing up like witches and wizards, and they were ignorant to the fact that the people they dressed up as actually existed.

"Why did you answer? They could've seen me!" Draco asked as Isabella closed the door.

Isabella laughed at him. "They _did_ see you! And they didn't scream and run away. In fact, they were admiring you!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's because it's Halloween!"

"Exactly! I want to take advantage of this and actually talk to people! Besides, you'll be gone anyway."

Draco then realized that not only was _he_ caged in this place but Isabella and William were as well. He could afford to let them be open to the outside world just this one time. Draco sighed and said, "Fine. Give random children cavities disguised as sugar all you like. I don't care."

Isabella smiled, and then another knock came at the door. Draco walked away as he heard the chorus "Trick or treat!" ring from the entrance way. He walked through the back door, and into the night. He trudged his way on the sidewalk while groups of costumed children ran from door to door, holding a bucket or a bag of candy. Draco was then grateful that it was Halloween, for he didn't have to hide his face anymore. For once, he blended in with the crowd. Draco walked to an alleyway and apparated to Hogwarts.

* * *

Everything was set perfectly. Hermione thanked Merlin that Justin let her decorate the Great Hall to how she liked it. Fairy lights were strung throughout, and the tables were pushed to the side to create a dance floor. Sheer curtains were draped throughout the room, and they surrounded the tables. Hermione cast a charm that created a fog that went up to your ankles. And despite Justin's protesting, Hermione used floating jack-o-lanterns as lighting. As for music, she let Dean Thomas be DJ, glad to be relinquished of the burden.

Hermione was putting final touches on the decorations for the food table as Justin walked into the Great Hall. She turned to look at him as he walked toward her, and her eyes widened on seeing his get up.

"Guess who I am!" he said, twirling to let Hermione soak in his costume from every angle. He was wearing a blue silk robe and a hat to go with it. He wore crescent-moon glasses and had a long, white, artificial beard.

He then answered his own question. "I'm Professor Dumbledore!"

Hermione mouthed the "wow" as Justin kept twirling. If Justin was anything, he was certainly a brown-noser.

"What are you supposed to be?" he asked her after he stopped spinning.

Hermione looked down at her costume. She was _supposed_ to be a hippie. She wore faded bell-bottomed jeans with sandals. On top, she wore layers of flowy, colorful blouses. She also had layers of long, beaded, wooden necklaces. Other accessories included a scarf wrapped around her head and round, rose-colored glasses.

She was about to tell Justin what she was, but then costumed students came pouring into the Great Hall. Justin exclaimed, "Show time!" and then walked away.

Dean started to play music, and all of the students instantly got excited. A large group went to go dance while others went to go get punch. She observed the girls and saw that they were mostly scantily dressed. Apparently, you can take anything and make it "sexy", for there were sexy versions of nurses, French maids, superheroes, and even animals. And as for the animal costumes, they were pretty much just lingerie with animal ears on top. She was the odd one out in this sense, for she managed to keep her breasts and her butt covered.

Hermione sighed and went to go get some punch, but her attention was diverted when she saw Pansy and Blaise, again, snogging each other's face off behind the curtain by the punch table.

They acted like no one saw them, though they didn't seem to care if people did. Hermione glared at Pansy, seeing her clad in a tight black dress that barely covered her behind, all topped off with cat ears. She was gorgeous and had an amazing hourglass figure, and she wasn't afraid to show it. And Hermione couldn't help it, but she thought of Malfoy. So this was his type; hot, sexy, and apparently prone to snogging with your best mate. It made her sick, and the current scene in front of her went completely against her idea of love. Did she have to strip naked to become interesting to a guy, specifically Malfoy?

Hermione shook her head at the thought. She believed that there was still _some_ potential for good in him, despite knowing she could never reach him. But she just couldn't let anyone know that she cared about him, and keeping it internal was Hell. She stood there, watching Pansy and Blaise and wondering how Draco would react if he saw this.

* * *

Draco walked into the dimly lit Great Hall. Music was blaring and a mosh pit had formed in the center of the room. Students were going crazy, and it was extremely crowded. Luckily, Draco seemed to blend in as before and no one seemed to notice him. They just assumed he was some student in costume. This made it easier to weave through the students, not worrying about his appearance and focusing on finding Granger.

For ten minutes Draco roamed through the room, squeezing himself through groups of students and looking for Granger. He got exponentially panicked as each minute passed. He worried that she had already been killed or taken and no one had noticed yet. He was about to shout her name until the music changed to a slow song. All of the students calmed down and either found a partner to dance with or sat down. It got quiet enough so that he could actually hear himself think, and the dispersing students made it easier to walk around.

He walked through some curtains, and then stopped in his tracks as he saw Pansy and Blaise snogging! In shock, he said, "Pansy?!"

Suddenly, the black-haired girl looked up at the sound of her name. The voice sounded all too familiar to her. "Draco?" she asked.

Draco quickly ran back through the curtains and toward the punch table, pretending to refill his cup while turning his face away from them. He was still in earshot of them, and he eavesdropped as they began to speak.

"Sounded like Draco, didn't it?" Blaise said, looking around suspiciously.

"Weird," Pansy exhaled. "I suck for not writing him."

"I suck more," Blaise responded.

"But honestly, with him gone, it's kind of a relief," Pansy began. Draco balled up his fist and rage started to spread through his body as she kept talking. "Like I always felt like I had to be _on_ and _mean_ , like really _mean_! Just to keep him entertained."

"I know what you mean. But we should just forget about him. He's decided where he wants to go, and honestly who cares?" Blaise said. Almost immediately he and Pansy were snogging again.

Draco was enraged. Was there no loyalty at all, even from his best friends?! He shouted as he kicked the bench beside the table.

"Hey!" a girl next to him exclaimed in response to the burst of anger. Draco then realized that the girl was Hermione Granger! He didn't recognize her with her glasses on. He panicked and turned away, apologizing. "Sorry."

"Well, I'm sorry to spy on you," she said, blushing. She took off her glasses and flipped her head toward the sheer curtain Pansy and Blaise were snogging behind. She scoffed in disgust at the sight. "Unbelievable. But it does sort of feel like the death of romance unfolding before your very eyes, doesn't it?"

Draco huffed. "Doesn't she have a boyfriend?" he asked.

"Yes! _This_ is what I'm saying," Granger replied. She then leaned against the table and cooed, "What happened to _romance_ ; sappy, soppy, longhand love letters?"

Draco smiled. Who knew Granger was a romantic? His stomach fluttered as she spoke. It was the same way she spoke when she saw his tattoos, with such passion and fire.

Granger realized she was rambling. "And you really, _really_ don't have to keep listening to me, by the way!" But he _kept_ listening to her, and she _kept_ rambling. "The thing is, you know that guy they're talking about? They're _way off_. I mean, I know he was a bully when he was here, and now he's a bloody Death Eater. But-" She stopped and then said, "Sorry I've never told anyone this. I've been keeping it in for awhile now so it feels good to actually _talk_ about it and instead of just _thinking_ about it."

"Well, I'm listening," Draco responded.

Hermione smiled and then continued," Well, I've _seen_ good in him. I mean _something_ stopped him from killing Headmaster Dumbledore. That's why I refuse to believe that he's suddenly evil now. And despite everything that he has done to me, I-" she stopped.

Draco got anxious as she stopped. "What?" he asked.

"I- I allow myself to afford hope for him."

It felt like a fire had started in his stomach. Despite everything, despite what she said about him in Dumbledore's office the day before, she somehow managed to believe in him. What Granger said in the Head Boy and Girl office a month ago came flooding back into his memory. He remembered what she said everyone being able to afford love and hope. If Granger could afford to hope for Draco, could she ever afford to love him?

Draco slowly turned around and noticed that she was gone. In her place were her rose colored glasses. He noticed that Granger was a stark contrast to every other girl at the party. She didn't need revealing clothes to show her beauty, and she was the most beautiful girl in the room to him. Draco was shocked at this thought because knew that the old Draco Malfoy would be falling over himself for these other girls. Now, the new once was falling over himself for a girl who was completely different.

He picked the glasses up and put them in his jacket as he looked around for her. She was nowhere in sight. Draco swore under his breath as he frantically scanned the room. He sprinted out of the Great Hall and into the courtyard. He then glanced at Granger's window and saw that the lights were off.

Knowing Granger, there was one place she could be.

* * *

Hermione laid down on the dewy grass of the Quidditch field. Over the past few days, it became a routine to take a walk around the castle and then lay on the Quidditch field, stargazing. If she knew she'd be doing this not a month ago, breaking rules and breaking curfew, she'd be appalled at the thought. But Hermione found that this was one of the only times she could be herself. She'd go to the library, but she'd have to be careful to not wake anybody up, especially Justin. She wished she could have some sort of library or some _space_ just to herself. At the moment, the outdoors at night was her _space_. And it didn't matter if she had to break the rules; feeling this kind of freedom and abandon for once was worth it.

However, she always got the oddest feeling that something was watching over her when she went out. She didn't feel threatened nor embarrassed. Strangely, she oddly felt _protected._ She felt that whatever, or whoever, was watching wasn't judging her... just _watching_.

She looked around as she muttered "Nox" and her light went out. She couldn't see anything, but she still felt like something was there with her, keeping her company. As her eyes flitted across the star-studded sky, she imagined that there was a warm body next to her. She closed her eyes as she thought of what it would be like to use someone's chest as a pillow, falling asleep to the rising and falling off their breathing while listening to the rhythm of their heartbeat. She folded her arms as she pictured herself being cocooned in that person's embrace, sheltered and safe. She subconsciously fell deeper into her fantasy, and she felt like she could practically touch that person next to her. As her daydream continued, the person continued to grow more vivid. Soon, she could see the person clearly in her mind's eye. Hermione opened her eyes, for the person she was picturing was a certain blond and gray-eyed boy.

She sighed. She had decided that there was simply no way to escape Draco Malfoy. She knew that she would eventually forget him, but at the time, he was the only thing occupying her mind. When she voiced about how she still believed in him at the party, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off of her chest. She was tired of keeping her feelings in, even though no one would understand them. Hermione still thought it was odd at how freely she expressed her feelings to that strange man. It was odd at how comfortable she was talking with him. It was like that one time outside of Headmaster Dumbledore's office when she saw that man with the tattoos. She rambled on and on and she did the same thing at the Halloween party. In fact, the two strangers seemed so similar; they both turned their backs to her, and they refused to look at her. Of course, the man outside of the Headmaster's office was a Death Eater. He couldn't have been the same man at the party... or...

Hermione suddenly got a sick feeling and she got her wand out. She jolted up, outstretching her arm, wand in hand, to the darkness. Her breath quickened, and the silence was deafening.

"Granger!"

She turned to the source of her name but before she could react, she felt a body collide with hers as a flash of green flew past her.


	9. The Infiltration

Draco's lungs were on fire as he sprinted to the Quidditch Field. Images of Granger being struck with the killing curse flashed through his mind, and it pushed him to run faster. As he neared the field, dark silhouettes of bleachers, House flags, and skyscraping goals came into view. Eventually, the silhouette of a girl in the middle of the field appeared as well.

Draco stopped in his tracks behind a tower, about ten feet behind Granger. He was partly worried that she'd see him and partly relieved that she hadn't been hurt. Draco leaned his head against the wooden towers and tried to slow down his rapid breath. But his breathing stopped short as he saw dark figures slowly seeping out from behind the bleachers. From the moonlight, Draco could see the glint of their outstretched wands. A sharp realization came as he recognized the figures as the Death Eaters from the Forbidden Forest. This was it. This was the moment where he'd lose Granger one way or another. Either, Merlin forbid, she'd die, or he'd save her but he'd never be able to see her again.

Draco took a deep breath and darted for her. As the Death Eaters called out, "Avada Kedavra", he called out her name. She turned to face him, and he threw himself into her to evade the sparks of green aimed for her. Draco's face was smothered by her hair and the skin of her neck as they landed on the grass. Draco landed on his back and then quickly turned on his side to look at Granger. Her eyes were closed, and she was out cold. Panic seized Draco as he began to scream her name in desperate agony.

"Granger!" He shook her shoulders, but she was unresponsive. Did she simply black out or was she somehow struck with the curse?

Before he could react, the Death Eaters appeared in his peripheral vision as they neared him. A dozen of them formed a mass in front of Draco, wands pointed at him. As they closed in, Draco stood up and took a protective stance in front of the all too still Granger, holding onto the slim hope that she was alive.

Suddenly, a shrill voice that he recognized came pushing through the crowd of Death Eaters. "Move, you damn blighters, move!"

Bellatrix split the Death Eaters in half as she moved to the front. Her eyes darted back and forth between the boy pointing his wand at her, and the girl on the ground he was guarding.

"'s she dead?"

" 'oo's that ugly bloke?"

"I say we kill 'im too."

A buzz from the Death Eaters came from behind Bellatrix. She shot her right hand up, hushing them.

The silence was filled when Granger started to stir, mumbling something incoherent. Draco and Bellatrix gasped simultaneously, and they looked at each other. In that moment, Draco didn't know whether his aunt would kill him or spare him as she did a month ago. Which of her loyalties would hold out; her loyalty to the Dark Lord, or her loyalty to her sister?

It was a split-second, but it felt like slow motion when Bellatrix stared into Draco's gray eyes. She said nothing, but Draco knew what she was communicating to him. _Run. Run. Run. Run. Run._

Draco instantly scooped Granger into his arms. Bellatrix cast the killing curse, purposefully missing, as the two people most wanted by the Dark Lord apparated away.

Draco blinked, and he appeared in Dumbledore's office. He cradled Granger in his arms as the panicked Headmaster came running toward them. "What happened?" Dumbledore frantically asked as Draco gently placed Granger on one of the couches in the sitting area. Her pale face was glowing from the blaze of the fireplace and her golden curls fell elegantly around her cheeks as she laid still. Her colorful scarf was still wound tightly around her head, and its vibrant colors danced in the firelight. Draco wanted to cry in relief as he heard her even breathing. For all he knew, she could've been asleep the whole time.

Draco stood up and answered Dumbledore's question. "I pushed her out of the way of the killing curse, but she knocked out on the impact of the ground. I believe she's starting to wake up, but I'm not sure."

Dumbledore exhaled, and then lowly asked, "And what of Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters?"

"I don't know. Bellatrix gave me enough time to get away, but all of them are still here." Draco started to pace back and forth. "I think they'll invade Hogwarts, inferring that Granger is in the castle."

Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, but another voice chimed in. "And _that's_ why you don't put Malfoy in charge of anything-" Draco cringed at the familiar voice, looking to the side of Dumbledore to see the source. "-he lets the bad guys in the castle, as usual."

Draco's lips curled into a sneer as he spat out, " _Potter._ "

* * *

Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix yelled, aiming her wand just to the left of Draco and Granger. The green sparks evaporated as her nephew and the mudblood disappeared.

"Nice shot, Bellatrix!" a Death Eater mocked. Bellatrix whipped around to face the Death Eaters. " You let 'em get away!" the same one shouted.

Bellatrix winced. She _knew_ she let them get away. If she wanted to kill them, then she would have. No one could ever know that she was trying protecting her nephew for the sake of her sister. If there was one thing that she was devoted to as much as the Dark Lord, it would be family.

"And _you_ did a bloody brilliant job of helping!" she shot back. The Death Eaters collectively started to murmur while some rolled their eyes at their leader.

Bellatrix angrily shushed them and then began to speak. "Listen! What's a failed mission? Do you know how many times the Dark Lord has failed to kill that bloody mudblood? We'll try again next month."

The Death Eaters were utterly dumbfounded by Bellatrix. They weren't used to her just giving up and calling it a night. What happened to the bloodthirsty Bellatrix that would rather die than let a target, let alone a mudblood, escape?

One spoke up. "A _month_? There is no way in 'ell I'm staying in that blasted forest for another month! I'm sick of taking orders from you!"

The mass of Death Eaters mumbled in agreement. He spoke again. "I say we find the mudblood, kill 'er, and finish what we started a year ago; to kill Dumbledore and take Hogwarts!"

The Death Eaters roared with vengeance and excitement. They pumped their fists in the air as they began to sprint to Hogwarts. Bellatrix could do nothing but protest, "You idiots, come back here! That's an order!" None of the Death Eaters heard as they ran past her and to the castle.

* * *

"What are _you_ doing here? And how do you know it's me?" Draco asked, gesturing to his own deformed shape. Potter stood by Dumbledore looking rugged. He hadn't shaved in awhile, and he had bags under his eyes. His dark hair was tousled, and there were more scars on his face than just the infamous one left by Voldemort. He looked like he'd been to Hell and back. But of course he still had that stupid Potter look on his face that Draco despised.

"Well the idea that the life of one of my best friends was in the hands of Draco Malfoy seemed absurd, so I came to make sure that she didn't die under your watchful care," Potter responded curtly.

"But how do you-"

Dumbledore answered his unspoken question. "I wrote to Mr. Potter explaining everything about the infiltration, including the part of you being under the Unbeautify curse."

Potter piped in. "And frankly, Malfoy, you've never looked better."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to Dumbledore. "Why did you tell Potter?"

"He has every right to know, Mr. Malfoy. She is practically his and Mr. Weasley's sister. If she couldn't be with them, then they should at least know if she is safe. And I anticipated that he'd come, so I wrote about your curse to make sure Mr. Potter wouldn't be caught off-guard."

"Speaking of Weaselbee, where is the bloke?" Draco asked.

Potter answered. "Someone had to hold down the fort at the Burrow. And if he _did_ come, he'd probably try to kill you after the _brilliant_ job you've done of keeping Hermione safe. I mean she wrote to me _herself_ about the sighting in Hogsmeade!"

Draco defended himself. "She didn't get hurt!"

"That still doesn't excuse the fact that you let her out of the castle! And on top of that, how many nights have you spent in Grimmauld Place moping about when you should've been watching Hermione?" Potter shouted accusingly.

Draco didn't respond and simply glared at Potter as he went to sit down by Granger. He began stroking her hair and watching over her like a father. Potter was right. Draco did a horrible job of protecting Granger. And Draco felt even more unworthy to be Granger's guardian now that Potter was there. _He'd_ actually try to keep her _in_ the castle, away from danger. _He'd_ be careful enough, and smart enough, to keep her from getting hurt. And _he'd_ make sure to get rid of the Death Eaters before they had a chance to enter the castle.

All of a sudden, a large crash and then screaming echoed from below. "They're here," Dumbledore said.

Potter jolted up and faced the Headmaster. "What do we do?"

"You and Mr. Malfoy will go to the Great Hall and defend against the Death Eaters and I will stay with Miss. Granger."

Potter nodded and headed straight for the door. Draco stood there, looking shocked at Dumbledore. "Why don't _you_ go, Professor? It's about a dozen Death Eaters against the two of us," he asked.

" I can't go because I believe I've become another target, and the Death Eaters are, again, trying to kill me to take over Hogwarts."

Draco couldn't help but scoff. "Do you actually have a _plan_?"

"The _plan_ is to keep everyone, including Miss. Granger, alive," Dumbledore replied sternly.

Draco stared at the Headmaster with a raised eyebrow. He knew that there wasn't really a plan, and he was most likely about to embark on a suicide mission. But he knew the priority: keep Granger alive. Draco's eyes met with Dumbledore's and he nodded. Neither said another word as Draco left the office.

He ran down the hidden staircase and met Potter on the bottom floor. There was another large crash, and the screaming amplified. The two then immediately started running to the Great Hall. When they reached the entrance, they noticed that the doors were wide open.

"Why haven't the Death Eaters locked the doors?" Draco asked while standing behind the wall beside the entrance.

"I don't think they need to," Potter responded, slightly leaning to see the inside of the room.

Draco opened his mouth to ask another question but Potter put a finger to his lips and cocked his head toward the inside of the Great Hall. Draco then carefully peered into the Great Hall.

He saw a Death Eater standing on the Professor's table preaching to the student body. Everyone, including the staff, was being held,hostage. "Now, no one 'as to get 'urt if we all cooperate. But if no one answers my question, and if anyone tries to escape, you will die. Simple. Capiche?"

Death Eaters surrounding him chuckled darkly. Draco noticed that Bellatrix remained silent.

"Let's go," Draco said, but Potter jerked his arm back.

"Not yet! We need a distraction."

"A distraction?! This isn't some Weaselbee prank on a Professor! These are bloody Death Eaters!"

"Not yet!" Potter repeated.

The Death Eater on the table continued. "So let's start, shall we? Tell us where your Headmaster and precious mudblood princess are." When no one answered, the Death Eater cast the Imperius curse on a student in the front. The Death Eater lifted her in the air and suspended her from the top of the Great Hall. A wave of gasps and screams fell over the crowd but the Death Eater hushed them.

"Since no one wants to cooperate, let's play a game. It's easy. You tell me where Dumbledore and the mudblood are and I _won't_ drop 'er."

Draco turned to Potter. "Where is your bloody distraction, Potter?!"

The dark-haired boy put a finger up, signaling Draco to wait, and then whispered, "Don't follow me. Stay hidden. When I come back out, attack."

The crowd remained silent, and the Death Eater was true to his word. He released the girl from the Imperius curse, and she began to fall. Like a flash of lightning, Potter stepped into the threshold and cast a levitating charm on the girl. All of the heads in the room snapped to the back to see Harry Potter , the Boy who Lived, saving the day again. Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. Potter is the hero once more. Of course, _he_ was the distraction, but it was brilliant. If anyone had enough notoriety to stop Death Eaters from killing it would be Potter.

The mass started cheering as Potter gently floated the girl down. He started to walk to the front, parting the sea of students and staff. The Death Eaters simply stared at him in shock as he approached them with his wand lowered.

The Death Eater on the table stepped down and started to speak with amusement. "Well, isn't it our lucky day? Dumbledore, the mudblood, _and_ Potter?! It's almost too good to be true!"

The Death Eater then raised his wand, but Potter chimed in. "I wouldn't. I highly doubt Voldemort would appreciate you killing me, the target reserved explicitly for him."

"The boy is right." Everyone's head turned toward Bellatrix as she broke her silence. "I say we take Potter to the Dark Lord and do nothing else."

The Death Eater snorted at Bellatrix. "Wot?! That's it!"

"I agree." Everyone turned back to Potter. "The only way I'm going willingly is if you leave the students, the professors, Headmaster Dumbledore, and Hermione Granger alone."

The Death Eater started to scratch his chin. "Sounds too easy."

Bellatrix scoffed. "Oh, bloody hell, take the deal! Trust me, bringing Potter to the Dark Lord is worth more than a thousand Headmasters and Grangers!"

The Death Eater slowly flicked his eyes between Bellatrix and Potter. The Great Hall fell silent once more, the tension being practically tangible. When the Death Eater nodded, there was a mix of sighs of relief and cries of fear from everyone. They were being spared but at the cost of Harry Potter. They were then all ushered out of the Great Hall.

Still in the hallway, Draco was alarmed at the sudden ocean of people walking out of the Great Hall. In the crowd, he managed to slip himself inside of the room without being noticed. He slithered into one of the curtains by the tables and waited until Harry's next move.

Draco got increasingly agitated as Harry gave himself in to the Death Eaters. They took his wand, and one of his arms, so Potter was defenseless. Draco's breathing quickened as the bastion of Death Eaters surrounding Potter started to move past him. Out of impulse, Draco stepped out of the curtain and shouted "Stupefy", red sparks flying out of his wand into the mass. The impact of the spell caused a domino effect as the entire group of Death Eaters fell to the ground. And like clockwork, Potter managed to break free and roll away before he could be hit. He snatched his wand from the ground and pocketed it.

Draco's mouth was agape as Potter swaggered toward him. "How did you-"

"Improvisation," Harry smoothly said.

Draco rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Do you always have to be such a... _Potter?!"_

Potter smiled and opened his mouth to answer, but his attention was diverted when he saw Death Eaters starting to stir. As they slowly started to get up, Potter shouted in panic, "How are they getting up?!"

"Oh, I don't know Potter! Probably because it was a stunning spell! Oh, and in case you didn't know, they are temporary!" Draco bit back facetiously. "What do we do?!"

"Dumbledore's office! Now!" Potter ordered, pulling Draco's arm forward. The two began sprinting out of the Great Hall, each trying to get a grip on their wand to apparate. When they reached the entrance, Draco felt the heat from a spell whiz past his ear. Immediately after, he heard the chilling words of "Avada Kedavra" casted . Draco whipped around and his eyes widened at the sight. Bellatrix casted the Unforgivable Curse, but it was not at Draco nor Harry. There was a half-second explosion of green as the curse hit, and took the life of the one of the Death Eaters. She then casted the same curse at another Death Eater, and she began picking them off one by one. Draco stared in silent shock as Bellatrix Lestrange, right hand of the Dark Lord, willingly killed the servants of her master. She knew she was betraying the only life she knew and ultimately signing her death warrant, and she did it all for the sake of her nephew.

One of the Death Eaters left standing eventually cast "Incarcerous" on her, binding her hands and feet. Draco screamed and began to run to her, but Potter yanked him back. "We have to keep moving!"

Draco slowly walked backward, observing the sight and picturing the impending torture his aunt would face. He forced himself to turn around and apparate away, hoping to Merlin that Bellatrix would live to see the light of day.

* * *

"Oh, sod it," Bellatrix hissed to herself as she made the choice.

She would be branded a traitor and murderer. She would be put under the Cruciatus curse and, Merlin willing, she'd eventually die. She knew all of this as she pushed the Death Eater casting the killing curse aimed for Draco, causing the trajectory of the spell to miss her nephew by a hair. When she turned toward her own throng of Death Eater comrades and started to cast curses aimed at _them_ , she knew it was the beginning of the end for her.

She picked off about three-quarters of them until she was magically bound. Before she collapsed to the floor, she stole a glance at the entryway and was relieved to see that Draco and Potter were gone and away.

She rolled onto her back, completely immobile. The rest of the Death Eaters formed a circle around her and, with the way they looked at her, Bellatrix thought it was a miracle that she hadn't been killed yet.

One Death Eater voiced Bellatrix's thoughts. "It's a bloody miracle we haven't killed you yet."

"Why don't you?" she asked, entering dangerous waters.

"Tempting, but I think the Dark Lord would prefer to do the job himself. And you may have some valuable information." The Death Eater then yanked her up over his shoulders and then violently slammed her down on one of the benches. She yelped in pain as he began to interrogate her. "Where is the Headmaster and the mudblood?"

* * *

Draco and Potter apparated into the Headmaster's office with rapid breaths and heartbeats. The room was crowded with staff. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were anxiously talking by the desk while Madam Pomfrey was tending to the sleeping Granger on the couch. When Draco and Potter appeared, the staff immediately ran to them. They were partly relieved to see Potter and partly horrified to see Draco in his beastly state.

When Draco saw Madam Pomfrey going pale, he scoffed in disgust. He was about to say something snarky but Potter spoke first. "This is Draco Malfoy. Long-story-short, he was cast with the Unbeautify curse, and he's a good guy now."

The room went silent, and everyone stared at Draco. "Delicately put, Potter," he muttered to the dark-haired boy.

Dumbledore broke the ice when he moved to the front saying, "What happened? Are the students safe?"

"Yes, but _we_ aren't," Potter said.

Draco spoke up. "Bellatrix turned against the Death Eaters and killed off most of them. But they managed to pin her down. No doubt they will try to get something out of her." The scene replayed in Draco's mind, and it sent chills through his body. The staff began chatting nervously in reaction to the news. All except Madam Pomfrey. She was eyeing Draco with both confusion and curiosity.

He tried to ignore her as Potter kept talking. "No doubt the Death Eaters will beat the information out of Bellatrix, and learn they can apparate here. What should we do?"

Everyone in the room then burst into a discussion. Everyone was talking over the person next to them and it became mayhem. Draco slipped away from the group and walked over to Granger, sitting by her on the couch she was laying on. He took a hold of her porcelain white hand and began caressing it with his thumb, tracing circles on her skin. It felt odd to hold her like this. For days he had been watching her from a distance and now he was up close. He didn't know how to feel now and in fact, he didn't know exactly what he was feeling in the first place. What he _did_ know was that the spark that ignited in him before was now threatening to become a wildfire.

"You've changed."

Madam Pomfrey's voice made Draco jump. The old healer stood behind the couch.

He looked up at her and then gestured to himself. "I know," he sighed.

"Not just on the outside," Madam Pomfrey said. She sat on an armchair beside him. "I hardly remember anything from the first time I saw you. Well, since you obliviated me."

Draco grunted. "Yeah, sorry about that."

She let out a low chuckle to show that she forgave him and then continued. "Anyway, I _do_ remember you laying down a girl on a hospital bed. I remember thinking you attacked her, but I didn't even face the fact that _you_ brought her to the _hospital wing_. You were _saving her._ "

Draco looked up at Madam Pomfrey and he smiled. From his peripheral vision, he saw Potter staring at him. No doubt he heard the whole thing. And no doubt Potter wanted to claw Draco Malfoy off of his best friend. But interestingly, Potter did nothing. He just stared, as if studying him.

Suddenly, Dumbledore shushed the room. Everyone stared at the Headmaster in confusion. After a few moments of silence, Dumbledore said, "They're coming."

Draco immediately jolted up and stood in front of Granger in a protective stance. Potter joined him on the right, wielding his wand. The staff gathered behind Dumbledore and an instant later, three Death Eaters, one holding a wand to Bellatrix's neck, appeared in the room.

Draco's eyes flitted to Bellatrix's. She looked more than crestfallen as her mouth slowly formed the word: "Sorry."

The Death Eaters brandished their wands and the professors did the same. The Death Eater holding Bellatrix started to laugh. "Well, well, well. The gang's all here."

Dumbledore spoke in a booming voice. "Leave, for you cannot face us! You are clearly outnumbered."

The Death Eater smirked. "I'm not leaving without my package." His eyes fell onto Granger. "You see, we need to leave with _something_ tonight. We can't leave empty handed."

"You _can_ and you _will_ ," barked Draco, pointing his wand at the Death Eater.

The Death Eater raised an eyebrow and then smiled when he saw Draco's left forearm." _You're_ one to talk. You're standing on the wrong side." The Death Eater began to roll up his sleeve as he spoke to Draco. "Listen, I don't know who you are, and why you look like that, but we are brothers." The Death Eater unveiled his Dark Mark and the room gasped.

"I am nothing like you," Draco seethed through gritted teeth.

"Oh, but you are! Once you have this, you can't get rid of it. It's a part of you forever. " The Death Eater started walking to Draco. "You see, _something_ made you join the Death Eaters. Something made you willingly give up part of yourself to the Dark Lord. Was it the belief, nay, the _truth_ that Muggles and mudbloods are mutations of nature? The truth that people like _her-_ " he pointed at Granger "-should be eradicated, therefore cleansing the world?"

Draco's insides began to churn. If he didn't know better, he'd think it was his own father talking to him. His entire life, Lucius Malfoy drilled these ideas into his son's head. He was bred to be a Death Eater.

Draco looked down at Granger and realized that yes, _something_ made him join the Death Eaters, but something else made him leave them. Something else made him want to be good. Something else made him believe that he could afford hope, even for himself. It was her.

"The only people that should be eradicated are people like you," Draco said darkly. He held up his wand to the Death Eater's neck. "I will not let you or any other piece of scum like you touch her. I suggest you leave."

The Death Eater flared his nostrils and jerked away from Draco's wand. "I won't waste my breath," he spat. He turned around and walked over to the other Death Eaters. "This night was a waste. But at least you know that you have a potential traitor in your midst now," he said.

He stared at Draco dead in the eye and then flicked his wand out the window, darkly murmuring, "Morsmordre".

A streak of green light flashed from his wand as he and the other Death Eaters disapparated. The light flew into the night sky and then burst. Draco's insides lurched as he saw that the same mark on his forearm was gleaming a sickly green in the night sky.

* * *

Draco was staring out the window from the hospital wing as the clock struck 4 A.M. The Dark Mark in the sky made his flesh crawl, but all he did that night was stare at it. It was like constantly poking at a bruise; it hurts every time you do it but you keep going to see _how much_ it hurts.

Granger was moved to the hospital wing, and thank Merlin no other students were in there. Madam Pomfrey gave her some salves to help her recover but she'd be asleep for the whole night. That was fine with Draco. That meant he could stay with her longer. When Draco wasn't staring at the Dark Mark, he was staring at Granger. He again was holding her hand while stroking it with his thumb. The scarf around her head was replaced with bandages but Draco could still vividly remember Granger in her hippie costume. It was when Draco learned that somehow she still believed in him, and there was hope that she could someday love him.

But Draco's heart sank as he remembered that this would be the last day he'd be able to see her. She would go back to being the Head Girl of Hogwarts and he'd go back to being the prisoner of Grimmauld Place. Nights of dancing and stargazing were over. The hardest part about watching a bird fly is when you have to put it back in its cage.

The hospital door opened, and in walked an exhausted looking Potter. He walked slowly over to Draco and pulled a chair up next to him. Draco took his hand away from Granger's embarrassingly. Potter noticed and snickered.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's okay. You can hold her hand," Potter said.

Draco's cheeks flushed. He coughed to hide is chagrin and then asked, "Really? Potter is letting me touch his precious Hermione Granger?"

"Well if you say it like _that_ , then no. And trust me, I'm just as surprised as you. I mean before tonight I never would've dreamed of this." Potter began to rub the back of his neck. "Listen, I never thought I'd say this but I've misjudged you."

Draco snorted and then looked up at Potter. He was serious.

Potter continued. "I heard what Madam Pomfrey said and I realize that I did the same thing she did; I didn't face the facts. When I heard that you were some 'protector' for Hermione I thought it was bullshite, and I thought how on Earth could Dumbledore pick _you_ , Hermione's tormentor for the past six years, to watch over her. But I didn't face the fact that you told Dumbledore about the infiltration in the first place. There was no way the Death Eaters could track you because of your curse, so you were fine. You didn't need to worry about Hermione but you _did_. I didn't think about that because I was blinded by your past. But after tonight, with how you guard her, how you hold her, and even how you look at her I can tell that you care about her, and I misjudged you."

Potter then sighed. "And I'd love for Hermione to come with Ron and me to find Horcruxes. In fact, I resented Dumbledore for the longest time since he didn't let her come. It kills me to say it, but it's too dangerous. Voldemort and his followers are out for blood, specifically hers. And now even Hogwarts isn't safe for her. So I need you to do me a favor."

Draco nodded slowly, prompting Potter to go on. The dark-haired boy cleared his throat and said, "I've talked to Dumbledore, and he agrees. But I know Hermione will kick and scream, but I believe it's the best option to keep her safe," Potter then leaned in "I need Hermione to stay with you at Grimmauld Place."


	10. Aiden

Draco blinked his eyes rapidly, turning over what Potter had asked of him in his head. Not only would Draco be able to see Granger again, but she would be living _with_ him. And that would give the small chance that she could, somehow, fall in love with him and break his curse.

"Yes! Yes, absolutely!" Draco exclaimed a little too excitedly. The pale boy cleared his throat in embarrassment as Potter looked at him oddly.

He replied, raising an eyebrow, "Are you sure? It's asking a lot, and it would be quite a burden."

"Not a burden at all," Draco smoothly answered.

"Then it's settled?"

"Yes. She can move in as soon as possible."

Potter slightly nodded, and then shifted his eyes to the sleeping Granger. His face read of exhaustion, and while staring at his best friend, his expression turned to guilt. "I wish I could take her with me."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "But you just said-"

"-I know, I know. It's too dangerous. But I still wish I could." Potter began to stroke her hair the way a father would. "You know, without her, Ron and I would've been dead a long time ago. She always kept a level head and knew exactly what spell to use every single time. I used to complain that she was too much like a mum, but that kept us not only alive, but together."

Potter's eyes then began to swell with tears and his voice started to crack. "I know she will kick and scream when I tell her she can't come with me. But I just love her too much to let her. She may hate me, but I all I've ever done was done for her safety."

Draco watched Potter's shoulders shake as he softly wept. Normally, he'd start laughing and then call Potter a nancy for being soft. But it struck Draco at the level of love Potter had for Granger. He was putting her under Draco Malfoy's care, knowing that he'd rather have her come with him. Not only that, but Potter knew Granger would resist. Still, he chose to keep her away with someone he despised for her own protection. Potter loved her enough to let her go.

Potter deeply inhaled and exhaled as he took off his glasses to wipe his eyes. As he rubbed his face in his sleeve, he began to chuckle. "I've never thought I'd live to see the day where I cry in front of Draco Malfoy, and he isn't making fun of me for it."

Draco smirked. "Well, _I've_ never thought I'd live to see the day where I'm cursed to resemble a flesh-eating monster."

"Not like you didn't already," Potter snorted.

Draco started to say a snarky riposte but Dumbledore entered the Hospital Wing at that moment. Both of the boys looked up at the exhausted Headmaster walking toward them. "Give Miss. Granger some rest. She will need it," he said as he motioned Potter and Draco to him.

Both of them looked back at the sleeping girl as they walked to Dumbledore. It would be one of the many times Draco would look at her and one of the last times Potter would for a very long time. When they approached Dumbledore, the old man said, "We must meet in my office."

When the three held their meeting, they discussed the matter of Granger staying at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore suggested that she stay there until the war ended. However, Potter had none of it.

"Absolutely not," the dark-haired boy said sharply. "I thought we agreed that when we've destroyed most of the horcruxes-"

"Things change," Dumbledore interrupted.

Potter folded his arms as he narrowed his eyes at the old man. "I need Hermione by my side when I face Voldemort," he hissed.

The Headmaster raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Mr. Potter," he coaxed, "this is the best option for Miss. Granger. And isn't it in your best interest to keep her safe?"

"Well if there's one thing that Hermione has taught me, it would be that I should never have to go at anything alone."

"Mr. Potter-"

"Besides," Potter threw his hands in the air, "Voldemort would be weak enough by then-"

"Potter-"

"-and I'm sure he'd be worrying about things other than Hermione-"

Draco watched as the two bickered, shocked that Potter was completely lacking propriety as he argued with his superior. He kept talking over the Headmaster, desperately clinging to the small hope of Granger going with him. But Draco knew that Potter knew that the best decision was for her to stay in hiding until the war ended. He had already admitted that to Draco. But perhaps Potter hadn't admitted it to Dumbledore, or even himself, yet.

Eventually, the Headmaster stood up and towered over his desk. He didn't say a word, but his commanding presence silenced Potter. Dumbledore then said lowly, "Mr. Potter, you, of all people, should know that we must make sacrifices for the ones we love to keep them safe."

Potter lifted his hand and grazed the lightning bolt scar on his forehead with his fingers. Draco watched as he closed his eyes, perhaps remembering the night when his mother gave her life for him. She made the ultimate sacrifice, and by comparison, Potter leaving Granger behind was a small price to pay.

A sudden image of Isabella, her eyes puffy and her cheeks stained with tears, came to Draco's mind, and he could practically hear her say, _But he loved_ _ **me**_ _enough to leave me behind. He loved me enough to let me go. Can you imagine_ _ **that**_ _love?_

Draco blinked with confusion at the memory. He shook his head out as Potter put his hand down and sighed. "Fine. But I don't want to be the one to tell Hermione."

Dumbledore exhaled and replied, "Mr. Potter, I believe you're the only one who can."

Potter slowly nodded. He looked at the floor, deep in thought. All of a sudden, his body jolted as if remembering something he had forgotten. "Wait-" Potter turned his head to Draco. "To Hermione, you're not Draco Malfoy. To her, you're just her live-in protector who looks like a mutilated beast."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Was the last bit necessary?"

Potter ignored him. "You need a new name."

Dumbledore chimed in. "A new identity."

A new name. A new identity. A clean slate. Draco stared at the floor. After awhile he murmured, "Aiden."

"Aiden?" Potter and Dumbledore asked unison.

"Aiden," Draco repeated.

* * *

Hermione glared at the back of the man who refused to look at her. His hood was up, and his body was facing the fireplace, completely blocking out the mayhem that was happening behind him. He seemed familiar to her. She was concentrating to recall a name, a face, -anything. But mostly she was concentrating on this trivial thing to tune out the painful confrontation in front of her. She was trying ignore the solemn face of Headmaster Dumbledore and the guilty face of her best friend, Harry Potter.

Not an hour before, she woke up in the Hospital Wing feeling sluggish. She groaned as she touched her head, feeling the bandage and the cool touch of the salve it was dipped in. Hermione felt a goose-egg and a cluster of scabs on her forehead. The last thing that she remembered was a body colliding with hers and then her head scraping, and smacking the ground, and then darkness. A plethora of questions ran through her mind. How did she get here? Why was she here? How long was she out? But the panic left her when she saw the one person who could calm her walk into the Hospital Wing.

"Harry," she whispered his name, wondering if she was suffering from the side effects of the salve and seeing hallucinations. But when he said her name back to her, she knew it was real. Tears instantly spilled from her eyes as he walked to her bed. When he pulled her into a bear hug, she began to cry into his shoulder. They stayed like that for awhile. Just holding each other.

Eventually, Hermione released from the hug and began to scold him. "You are a mess! You clearly haven't shaved in months, and your hair is atrocious," a giggle bubbled from her throat, "and of course your glasses are cracked."

He simply smiled at her, and she felt herself fill up. She had an empty space lingering in her for a long time and only Harry could've filled it.

Hermione then asked him about everything. She asked about the horcruxes, the Order, and when she asked about Ron, she learned that he was holding down the fort at the Burrow. She saw how Harry scrunched up his face when she simply shrugged when he told her that Ron was away.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing, it's just odd how subtle your reaction is to Ron's absence."

"Well, I _am_ going to see him soon, right?" she replied without a care in the world.

Harry blinked rapidly in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"That's why you're here! To take me with you!" she responded with a bright smile. But it faded as she watched Harry look down and then away with a scornful expression.

She raised her eyebrows, and leaned forward to catch his fleeting eyesight. "That _is_ why you're here. Right?"

Harry then stood up and held out his hand. Hermione took it and he led her outside of the Hospital Wing. Hermione blinked, and she was then apparated with Harry to Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster stood at his desk while a strange-looking man that faced the fireplace stood in the sitting area. Harry walked over and stood by Dumbledore.

Dumbledore waved Hermione over and she cautiously moved forward with her arms crossing her chest. She asked him, "What's going on, Sir?"

He replied, "Let's start from the beginning."

Both Dumbledore and Harry tag-teamed in explaining everything to Hermione. They started from when they received news that there was a planned Death Eater operation to kill her a month before, and they were camping out in the Forbidden Forest. They explained that when there was the Death Eater sighting in Hogsmeade, they couldn't do anything about it because it would've tipped off the Death Eaters already there. Harry told her about the letter he received from Dumbledore telling about it and he came to Hogwarts to make sure she was safe. He then explained the events that occurred the night before and how she was knocked out.

Hermione sighed. "So I guess you're keeping me here, aren't you?" she asked, looking down at the floorboards.

"Not exactly," Dumbledore responded.

Hermione looked up with a quizzical look. "So what, then?"

Harry and Dumbledore glanced at each other. Harry raised his eyebrows and then Dumbledore nodded, signaling for Harry to do something. Harry turned back to Hermione and began speaking. "Hermione, know that we want you to be safe."

"We believe that this is the best option," Dumbledore added.

"And know that I do what I do because I love you," Harry said. Hermione thought that Harry and Dumbledore were acting like they were approaching a dangerous animal. Their behavior reminded her of when Remus Lupin turned into a werewolf. She remembered how she approached him when he first transformed: cautiously, slowly, and not making any sudden movements. _Professor Lupin?_ she had gently called. An instant later, he was mindlessly attacking her and her friends. She wondered if that was how Harry and Dumbledore saw her at the moment, as a werewolf about to pounce if not approached carefully. The question was why.

Harry then said, "We need you to stay at Grimmauld Place until the war is over,"

That was when Hermione turned her head to the back of the man in front of the fireplace. That was when she went numb. The frantic sounds of apologies and explanations from Harry became muffled as she tuned them out. Hermione did not expect betrayal to feel like this.

Staring at the odd man was a good distraction, but it began to fail when Harry stopped talking and started to wait for her response. The silence brought welling of tears to Hermione's eyes, and she bit her cheek. She refused to let them spill. Not in front of Dumbledore, and especially not in front of Harry.

Quietly, Hermione finally spoke. "Am I _that_ much of a burden?"

When silence answered her, she turned her head to Harry and spoke again. "Am I _that_ useless? Am I just a grueling responsibility to you, so you lock me up to just sit and rot?"

Harry walked toward her and reached for her hand. She snatched it away and continued. "Is that the only thing I'm good for anymore? Sitting, and waiting for the Boy Who Lived, the chosen one, to save the world and rescue me?!"

"No! Hermione-"

She stuck her finger in the air, yelling, "You have no right to dictate what I do with my life! Just because you're _Harry Potter_ doesn't mean you can determine _my_ safety! I'm _sick_ of sitting on my arse and doing nothing, while Muggles- people like my _family-_ are being killed every single day!"

Dumbledore stepped in. "Miss Granger! Please, this really is the only option we have. Being in hiding is the only way to protect you and the people around you." He then gestured to the man at the fireplace. "Aiden will be staying with you along with his tutor and housekeeper."

"Who-?" she asked, peering at the man apparently named Aiden. He turned slightly, and as he did, the sleeve on his right hand slightly rolled up. Hermione gasped as she caught a glimpse of a tattoo she recognized. The man jumped and turned back to the fireplace. Hermione whipped her wand out and shouted, "He was the one that hurt Millicent! This man is a Death Eater! "

Dumbledore quickly stepped in front of her wand, putting his hands up. "He _was_ a Death Eater! But he has changed his ways and he works with me now. He didn't hurt anybody."

"Remember the last time we thought someone had 'changed'? " she seethed, her heart skipping a beat as the memory of Draco Malfoy pulsed through her mind.

Harry then came up and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, he can be trusted. _I_ trust him enough to stay with you and protect you," he softly said.

Hermione slowly lowered her wand. She then shrugged away from Harry's grasp on her shoulder. "I'm still not going," she growled.

"Miss. Granger, you must," Dumbledore said.

"But-"

"It's a direct order from the Order of the Phoenix. You are compelled to follow through," Dumbledore interrupted with a booming voice. "You will leave in three days time. I suggest you go to your room and start packing your trunk."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut, and she fought down a sob coming up through her throat. She looked at Harry, silently begging her best friend to step in and change his mind. To give in, and just let her come with him, despite the danger. But he simply stood there, silent. Hermione then turned and slowly walked out of the office, tears stinging from behind her eyes.

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed staring at her packed trunk. It was filled to the brim with every personal item she had, but she still felt like there was something missing. Perhaps not a certain item, but a certain feeling.

It was the day she would leave Hogwarts. The day she would lose her freedom. Who knew how long the war would last? It could take months or even years to defeat Voldemort. For all she knew, Grimmauld Place was going to be her permanent home for a long time.

Inferring that Harry would be getting her soon to leave, she stood up to change out of her school uniform, something she'd never have to wear again. She put on dark jeans, boots, a sweater, and a coat. She then slipped on a wool beanie and began wrapping a scarf around her neck. As she wrapped the scarf, Ginny suddenly walked into her room.

"Are you ready leave?" the redhead asked as she closed the door behind her.

Hermione huffed. "I think you know the honest answer."

Ginny sat on Hermione's bed solemnly. Hermione almost forgot that leaving would impact Ginny as well. With Harry and Ron gone, Hermione was the closest friend she had at Hogwarts. Ginny would soon be practically alone.

"I talked to Harry," Ginny stated.

"Did you _talk_ or _snog_?" Hermione jokingly asked.

Ginny giggled. "A little bit of both." She then looked down at her hands. "He told me about how you reacted."

The memory made Hermione wince. _Is that the only thing I'm good for anymore? Sitting, and waiting for the Boy Who Lived, the chosen one, to save the world and rescue me?!_ "I didn't mean a word of it. I was just-"

"He knows."

Hermione winced again. She felt horrible for what she had said, and she felt even more horrible because, deep down, maybe she did mean it a little bit. Harry Potter was just too good and proud for his own sake. Harry's love for his friends always kept him from seeing insight. She knew that he really was just trying to protect her, but preventing her from helping him was just plain stupid and prideful to her.

The brown-eyed girl sighed deeply. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"You can tell him yourself."

Hermione snickered. "You know I'm too proud for that."

"I know," Ginny smiled and then paused. Her smile was replaced with a somber expression when she spoke again. "He really wants the best for you, and he's trying so hard. Please, for once, give in and forgive him."

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. "It's him. Time to leave," Hermione grumbled.

Ginny stood up and pulled Hermione into a hug. Nothing was said. They just stood there, knowing that it would be the last time in a long time they'd see each other. After they pulled away, Ginny gave a soft smile to Hermione as she opened the door. Harry appeared at the threshold and she planted a kiss on his cheek and then went downstairs.

Harry then met Hermione's eyes. She was about to apologize. She was about to run into his arms and cry into his shoulder. She was about to rekindle what relationship she had left with her best friend. But she didn't.

"Ready?" the dark-haired boy asked.

She nodded, and then moved past him with her trunk in hand, refusing to look at him.

Hermione found that she, herself, was too much like Harry; her pride spoke first before her mind. But this time, Hermione's pride kept her silent.

* * *

Draco felt his palms clamming up as he stood in the master bedroom of Grimmauld Place. He had moved out of there to leave the space for Granger. He asked Isabella to decorate the room as much as possible before Granger arrived. At the moment, he was tapping his foot impatiently as the housekeeper was hanging the last of the fairy lights in the bedroom.

"Hey, hey, hey, enough with the tapping, roadrunner!" Will complained next to Draco. "Or should I say, Aiden?" the blind tutor then snorted and began laughing. Draco rolled his eyes. Ever since he told him about his new name, William thought that it was the funniest thing in the bloody world.

"I mean, come on!" William exclaimed. " _Aiden?!_ Sounds too noble for you,"

Draco scoffed. "Honestly? Will you get over it?"

"Sure, thing," the tutor held in his laughter, "Aiden." and then immediately started busting up again.

Draco growled. "Are you done yet, Isabella?"

"Yup!" She stepped down from the step stool and stood by Draco to get a panoramic view of the room. The sheets were replaced on the king-sized bed with plush blankets and pillows. White roses stood in a vase on a nightstand beside the bed. Fairy lights were strewn about and paper lanterns were interspersed throughout the room. There was a wooden bookshelf stacked with books, and beside it there was a hammock-like swing strung from the ceiling.

"Okay Martha Stewart, how does it look?" William asked Draco facetiously.

"Perfect," Draco replied.

"Really? Don't you think the white roses are a bit ironic?" Isabella asked.

"No, no. It's good. It makes it look like an actual girl's bedroom."

William guffawed. "Yeah. An 'actual girl's bedroom' _does_ sound better than 'prison cell'."

Draco's hands clammed up even more after what William said. Draco was extremely nervous, especially after how Granger reacted when she learned she'd be staying with him. She'd be staying against her own will, and with someone whom she thought of as an evil Death Eater. It was going to be painstakingly difficult to get her to trust him, let alone fall in love with him.

Suddenly, a knock echoed from downstairs. "I'll get it!" Isabella exclaimed. Draco jumped and hid behind the railing at the top of the stairs.

"Hello! I'm Isabella," the housekeeper greeted as she opened the door. Granger only nodded at her as she trudged in with her trunk, slamming it on the floor. Draco's heart sunk. She was angry, though he expected nothing less.

Potter then slowly walked into the foyer. Granger shot him an annoyed glare and then scoffed as he stood beside her. Potter just looked at her with a sad expression. Draco could sense the tension from all the way up on the second floor. It was practically tangible.

"Where is he?" Potter quietly asked Isabella.

"You can go," Granger deadpanned, refusing to look at him.

Potter turned to her. "Well, I'm not going to just leave you here-"

"Yes, you are! Isn't that why we're here? To leave me here with some stranger! No, excuse me, a Death Eater?!"

"As Dumbledore said before, he's not a Death Eater anymore. And he's here to protect you."

"Bullshite. And I can take care of myself!"

Isabella stepped in, trying to ease the conversation. "I'll let you say goodbye-"

"There's no need," Granger hissed at Isabella

There was a moment of silence, and then Potter asked Granger, "How am I going to know you're okay?"

She whipped around to face him. "You're _not._ The deal is I give up my _life_ , my whole life: school, friends, _everything._ And in return, you don't come see me, don't write me, don't do _anything_ ," she turned back around. "just stay away."

Potter became desperate."Hermione, please. I don't know what else to do-"

"You can leave," Granger bit back over her shoulder.

He took a step toward her but Granger stepped away, not looking back. Potter then nodded at Isabella sadly as he dragged himself out the door.

Once the door closed, Granger shouted to the foyer, "So I'm here, okay? Aiden, or whoever you are, you come near me and I hex your arse into oblivion!"


	11. Thinking Thing

"Is Granger's breakfast ready?" Draco asked urgently as he strode into the kitchen impatiently. The smell of bacon and eggs filled his nose as he saw Isabella neatly place the breakfast items on a tray.

"Ready! Though I'm not sure why you-" Isabella almost dropped the tray in her hands when she turned to face Draco. She gave a sharp gasp when she saw the Death Eater mask on his face.

Draco hurriedly took the mask off. "Oh for Merlin's sake, it's me!" he barked.

William then hobbled in. "What's with the commotion?"

Isabella put the tray down on the table. "Well, Draco decided to wear a Death Eater mask today."

William's face contorted in confusion as he sat down. "Why on-"

Draco interjected, "I want to bring Granger her breakfast today. Maybe she'll actually come down from her room and talk to me. So I cannot let her see my face."

Isabella snorted. "Y'know there's a reason that she hasn't come down from her room at all the two weeks she's been here. It's that she believes her best friend dumped her here, and she is being held hostage by a Death Eater."

"Ex- Death Eater!" Draco defended.

"So? She still doesn't trust you! And I don't think making the first impression with a bloody Death Eater mask on will help." William replied.

"Well it's loads better than _this,_ " Draco remarked, gesturing to himself.

Isabella cocked her head. "I'm not so sure, Draco. The mask is a bit of a put- off."

"Yeah, I'd take the face of a deformed man over the face of someone who wants me dead any day." the blind tutor added.

Draco growled complainingly. "Honestly, you two . You're here to maintain the house and not to lecture me! And besides, it's just a bloody mask."

"I think the mask will scare her more than your face," Isabella warned.

"Well, it's a risk I'm willing to take." Draco slipped on the mask and then snatched the breakfast tray from off the table. He maneuvered himself upstairs and quietly stood behind Granger's door.

He balanced the tray on one arm as he knocked on the door with his free hand. A small voice came through. "Isabella?"

"No, it's me," Draco said with a broad voice, talking to the closed door.

He then heard a muffled sound of disgust. "Go away!"

"I have your breakfast!"

"Tell it to someone who gives a shite!"

Draco became irritated, yet slightly amused at Granger's new colorful vocabulary. He put the tray down and jiggled the doorknob. Of course, it was locked. "Bollocks!"

A light trill of laughter then rang from the other side. "Did you honestly think my door wouldn't be locked?"

Draco became desperate. "I'd really like to explain! Please let me in!"

He was met with agonizing silence. Frustrated, he ripped his Death Eater mask off and punched the locked door.

"Inviting!" the girl shouted at him sarcastically in response to his temper tantrum.

Draco stomped away and into the kitchen, cursing under his breath. He tossed the mask onto the table and flopped down in a chair. Isabella and William observed this, and after a while, William piped up, "So yelling at her and slamming her door _didn't_ work?"

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "I need to think of something else."

"Obviously," Isabella added.

He looked up at the housekeeper and was suddenly struck with an idea."When are you going to town next?"

"At noon. Why?"

Draco then ran to the drawing room and came back with a huge stack of Muggle money. Isabella's eyes widened at the amount. "Where did you get that?!"

"The Blacks always had to keep a stash of Muggle currency since they lived in the middle of Muggle London." Draco dropped the stack in front of Isabella.

"What do you want me to do with this?" she asked, gingerly taking the pile of money.

"I need you to get something pretty for Granger."

William busted out laughing. Draco whipped around, glaring at the tutor. "What's so funny this time?"

"Do you really think this rubbish will work? On Hermione?"

"Of course it will work!"

Isabella cautiously spoke up. "I'm not so sure, Draco. I don't think-"

Draco interrupted. "Please, Isabella."

The housekeeper eyed Draco and could see that he was desperate. She sighed in sympathy. "Fine. What do you want me to get?"

* * *

Draco counted to three and then swiftly dashed to Granger's door with a colorful box embellished with ribbon. He darted away after he placed the box at the foot of her door and rapped at the door loudly. He concealed himself behind a column in the hallway. Holding his breath, he watched hopefully as Granger opened the door.

With a confused look on her face, she looked from side to side and then down at the box. She raised an eyebrow as she bent down to look at it. She slowly opened the box and then pulled out a very expensive bottle of perfume.

Draco grinned as Granger held the present. The beautiful crystal bottle sparkled and gleamed. Any woman would die to receive a gift like that. At least he knew Pansy would. Many times in the past had a diamond ring or jeweled bracelet helped ease Draco's ex-girlfriend when they were in a fight. In fact, it seemed that she would completely forget what they were fighting about in the first place. Draco hoped to Merlin it would work on Granger.

But Draco's hopeful expression dropped as Granger tossed the bottle back into the box with a scoff. Draco jumped from the shockwave of Granger slamming the door behind her. His jaw plummeted to the floor, genuinely shocked that the perfume didn't completely thrill the girl. He would have to come up with Plan B. A gift that no woman could resist.

Draco trotted down the hall to Isabella's room and let himself in. Isabella looked up from the book she was reading and chuckled. "Let me guess. She hated it."

"Well yes. But that's because you got her the wrong thing."

The housekeeper rolled her eyes. "Okay, so what would be the right thing?"

"Jewelry," Draco answered confidently. He was less than pleased to see that Isabella wasn't floored by his ground-breaking suggestion.

"You're kidding, right?" Isabella asked. "Do you know even a modicum about this girl?"

"Just go and get her a necklace or something!" He snapped, and then walked briskly away.

* * *

Take two. Draco was in his same spot, perched behind a column. This time, a black bag with the golden letters BVLGARI engraved on it sat in front of Granger's door. Inside the bag was a diamond necklace encased in a leather box. This was the epitome of luxury and beauty. She would be barmy if she rejected him over this.

Draco watched with anticipation as Granger opened her door. She looked down at the bag with a bored sigh. Not looking good. But things would turn around when she opened it.

The golden haired girl reached inside the bag and grabbed the leather box. She opened it, and defying expectations, looked at the necklace with disgust. She picked up the expensive piece of jewelry like it was a piece of garbage.

"Thanks, but no thanks you prat!" She hissed to the hallway, listlessly throwing the necklace and box back into the bag. The familiar sound of slamming doors rang through Draco's ears as she turned away. Fuming, he threw a blow at the column with an infuriated grunt. He immediately regretted it as his hand started to throb and Granger started to laugh mockingly.

"Again, inviting!" She bellowed between giggles. Draco's cheeks flooded with crimson as he moped away, Granger's laughter increasing in decibels.

Needless to say, he needed a Plan C.

* * *

It was noon the next day and Isabella was going into town. Draco was hovering over her with detailed instructions as she was getting ready to go out.

"This time, go to Dolce & Gabbana, get Manolos or whatever sick-expensive thing Pansy loved," Draco ordered, handing her another large stack of paper money.

"Everything you say to me about her, and everything I see, tells me that she's not the kind..."

"Okay, Prada then."

"...To be bought," Isabella corrected.

Draco's face scrunched up. "I'm not trying to buy her!"

"You are. And she'll hate that."

Draco exhaled and realized she was bloody right. Granger was not like Pansy at all. She was not materialistic and superficial. She was real, and she cared about real things. What scared Draco was that he was pushing her away this whole time with the stupid gifts, and he didn't even know it.

Draco then asked quietly, "So now what?"

"Well, what do you know about her? You must think about her." Isabella put her hand up to his cheek. "I know you see who she is," Isabella stated with a smile, patting his cheek maternally and placing the money back in his hands. She then whisked away and headed for the door.

"But what do I do?" Draco yelped after her.

The housekeeper turned. "Think!"

 _Thanks for being so bloody specific,_ Draco thought as Isabella left Grimmauld Place. A cold breeze suddenly swept over the left side of Draco. He shivered and checked the tattoo on his left forearm. Mirroring the actual weather, the leaves on the tree were colored in red and orange ink and they were slowly falling. The small breeze came again and more leaves plunged to the foot of the trunk on his arm. Draco moaned. Time was ticking.

Draco plopped himself down at the foot of the stairs and covered his face in his hands. He decided to take Isabella's advice and just think about Granger. Although, it made absolutely no sense. The only things that would come out of thinking would be the basics; Granger was an eighteen-year-old witch, she was incredibly clever, her nose was always buried in a book, she loved Butterbeer, and-

Hold on. Draco sat up and chuckled to himself. This "thinking" thing had just helped Draco with a plethora of things that interest Granger! Everything about her just seemed to stick out in his mind. It's probably because she was so... odd. But maybe that was a good thing. She's nothing like Pansy or any other girl Draco had been with. They were all like plastic dolls, having similar interests and physical features. But they were also like dolls because they were fake. Granger, on the other hand, was real. No wonder she had hated the gifts he had gotten her. He was trying to woo her as if she were just another plastic doll. But now he realized that he needed to woo her as herself.

 _What can I say? I'm substance over style._ Draco again thought of the words Granger spoke in the office.

He stood up, a grin stretching across his face. He knew exactly what to do. He had figured out Plan C.

* * *

Take three. Draco stood outside Granger's door holding a case of bottled Butterbeers in one hand and a Muggle book entitled Pride and Prejudice in the other. Yes, these were still gifts, but they were gifts with actual thought and care. Draco remembered how Granger was drawn into The Three Broomsticks by the scent of Butterbeer that one night in Hogsmeade, so he knew of her love for the drink. And the book was a no-brainer. But what was special about it was that it was a Muggle book. And a classic one at that. The bookshelf in her room was stacked entirely with books by wizard and witch authors. Draco assumed that maybe she'd appreciate something different and something that would bring her close to home, considering her family. Not to mention, Pride and Prejudice was a love story. And, as much as Granger would have liked to hide it, she was clearly a romantic. He remembered her swooning over sappy, soppy, long-hang love letters on Halloween night, and her skipping around Hogwarts castle and dancing through Hogsmeade. The evidence was clear.

Draco slid the book between his other arm so he could knock on the door. But this time, he wasn't going to drop the gifts and run. He was going to stand there and wait for her to face him... Well not exactly. He had on his Death Eater mask, despite what Isabella and William advised. He held his breath as he softly knocked on the door. He continued to hold his breath as he waited for Granger to open it. But she never came. Draco deeply exhaled and inhaled to catch his breath, confused that she didn't answer. He then knocked again, louder this time. But still, no Granger came to the door. Draco grunted in annoyance and placed his ear to the door. He could hear the girl talking to herself, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. She was clearly too distracted to hear the knocks at the door.

Draco's eyes flitted to the door knob. Could her door possibly have been unlocked? There was no harm in trying unless she put a jinx on it or something. But he already placed his hand on the cool metal and then successfully turned it clockwise. His heart skipped a beat in surprise and he quietly pushed the door open. He peeked inside, and he noticed that Granger was pacing around the room as a quill was writing on a piece of parchment by itself on her nightstand. It seemed that she had placed a charm on the quill to write what she was saying.

As Draco slowly entered, her words came in more clearly. "This whole thing is just a huge mess. I miss everybody, I miss lunch with you, Seamus, and Neville. And Hogsmeade and the library, school, and everything that made me, _me_. And it's entirely screwed up, Ginny! He thinks that he can just give me a couple of presents like that fixes everything." She continued to pace erratically as Draco came fully into the room.

The pale boy braced himself, but she hadn't noticed him yet. She was still ranting. " And yes, I know it's just for a little while but I'm hating it! I hate not fighting back. I hate Harry. And I just hate... hating. And I know it's for my safety, but honestly, I can protect myself! I don't need to be saved by some tattooed ex-Death Eater or even 'The Boy Who Lived'! I just-"

Suddenly, Hedwig squawked from her perch upon sight of Draco in a mask. Bugger! He forgot about the bloody chicken. Granger's eyes darted to Draco and she gasped in terror. Draco jumped and dropped the contents in his hands as Granger threateningly stretched out her wand to him.

"Merlin!" Draco shouted, holding his hands up in defense. "What the bloody hell is your problem?!" he lashed out.

She was shooting daggers at him through her eyes. "Well, what the 'bloody hell' is with the Death Eater mask?!" Granger bit back caustically.

"I didn't want to freak you out!"

Granger's raging expression softened to bewilderment as she slowly put her wand down. "Sure! The Death Eater mask didn't freak me out," she responded facetiously. She exhaled with exasperation as she threw her wand on the bed and looked back at the intruder with the same confused look.

Draco recalled the purpose of his breaking-and-entering and he picked up the peace offerings. "I uh, got you some Butterbeer and a book." He clumsily ran and put them at her feet and then quickly backed away against the door. It was almost like attempting to lure a dangerous animal.

Granger moaned in irritation. "Again, with the gifts? I don't want-" Granger's eyes fell to the contents on the floor and stopped talking. She examined the gifts closely, and her expression softened faintly. But she didn't take them. She looked up and demanded, "Can I ask a question? Why am I here?"

"Because you need to be protected."

"But I can take care of myself. You don't even know me!"

Draco stammered, "But uh, I work for Dumbledore and Potter-"

"-whom, for some reason, trust you. I mean you broke into Hogwarts and hurt a student. Not to mention, you're a Death Eater!"

Draco opened his mouth to counter, but he bit his lip when he remembered his fake identity as an Ex-Death Eater named Aiden. He would have to get used to the fact that if Granger would be falling in love at all, she would have to be falling for Aiden and not Draco. "Potter wanted you to be with someone and somewhere that couldn't be traced. Yes, I still have the Dark Mark, but the Dark Lord believes that I am dead so he wouldn't think of tracking me in the first place. Plus, this wretched place is surrounded in wards that keep you from being tracked by the other Death Eaters."

Granger's face softened even more which prompted Draco to carefully advance toward the witch. "And Potter planned this all out because he is scared out of his mind that something will happen to you. Because of how much he loves you." He recalled that morning in the Hospital Wing. Potter was grasping Granger's delicate hand and soaking her with his tears. He was making a sacrifice for Granger out of love, knowing that she would loathe him for it. Draco didn't know why and maybe the situation was making him go soft, but he thought he might as well ease the girl of her blind hatred for her best friend.

She stared at Draco quizzically. "Really?" she asked quietly.

He nodded.

It was silent for a few moments. Granger cast her eyes down. She was obviously thinking about Potter but Draco didn't know if she was even more angry, confused, regretful, or even grateful after hearing what he said about Potter. But she looked up at him with a smile. It was small. But still there. "I've always wanted to read Jane Austen. Thank you."

Draco's stomach fluttered. "You're welcome," he replied. He watched her pick up the Butterbeers and book, her smile growing ever so slightly.

Draco left her room and threw off his mask, barely containing his excitement. Plan C worked! It bloody worked! He flew downstairs and into the kitchen where Isabella was.

"How did it go?" the housekeeper asked, surprised by the usually broody bloke beaming from ear to ear.

"The 'thinking thing' killed!" Draco grabbed her shoulders, laughing. "KILLED!"


	12. The First Time

As soon as Aiden left her room, Hermione immediately snatched a bottle of Butterbeer, popped it open, and took a huge swig. The sweet and familiar drink made her feel more at home than she ever had during her captivity at Grimmauld Place. As she gulped down the beverage, a wave of memories from The Three Broomsticks with Harry and Ron flooded her mind. For an instant, while reminiscing about carefree times with her best friends in the dingy pub, she felt safe. A feeling which was very rare.

The sudden and large intake of the drink started to sting her eyes. "Shite," she exclaimed as she put the bottle down on her nightstand. She began to laugh at herself as she rubbed her eyes with balled fists. She was embarrassed about her animalistic craving for Butterbeer, and especially about how Aiden was the one to relieve it. How, in Merlin's name, did he know? How did he know that Butterbeer was her favorite drink? And the copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ didn't help either. A case of Butterbeer could've just been something picked up on the way home but the book... that was something for which you needed to know Hermione well. True, it was obvious that the witch liked to read. If it was just some old book written by some old wizard, or a Gilderoy Lockhart novel then she would've overlooked it (not to mention, she had lost count of the number of times she read the Lockhart novels). But the fact that it was a _Muggle_ book astonished Hermione. She never really had the chance before to delve into Muggle literature. Sure, she must have had to at some point before Hogwarts, what with growing up in a Muggle home. However, it had been so long that she couldn't remember if she ever did. She had finished every book in her bookshelf. But they were all written by magical folk, and half of them she had already read from before her imprisonment. Reading was an escape for Hermione. It kept her sane. So when she saw the title of _Pride and Prejudice_ on the book that Aiden dropped in front of her, it took her everything to not instantly seize it. It was like receiving sustenance after starving for so long or like taking morphine to kill the unbearable pain from an injury.

But the pinnacle of the visit was when Aiden began to speak of Harry. Just the thought of him made her blood boil yet it made her miss him awfully. She had been told by so many people- Dumbledore, Ginny, Harry himself- that he was keeping her here to protect her. She even tried telling herself that. But her pride kept her feeling indignant toward one of the few people that she trusted completely. She felt useless, weak, but mostly terrified. Terrified that all of her and the Order's efforts would be in vain. Terrified that Voldemort would win without her on the battlefield. Terrified that she would lose Harry and Ron since she wouldn't be there to help. It was so much easier to hide your fear with anger rather than longing. So every night for the past two weeks at midnight, when a spectral stag came flying into her room followed by Hedwig with a letter, Hermione would tear the letter and burn the pieces.

But for some inexplicable reason, when Aiden, whom she despised and distrusted, told her the same thing everyone else had about Harry- about how he loves her and he wants to keep her safe- she believed him. At first, she wanted to hex his sorry arse for bringing up her personal issue, but _something_ kept her from it. What made his speech about Harry so different from anyone else's?

Hermione sat on her bed and began to rub her right temple. She was trying to recollect what Aiden looked like. Then again, he didn't look like anything with the bloody Death Eater mask on. But she tried to remember his eyes. They were pale gray and somehow stood out from his Death Eater mask. She remembered looking into them when he talked about Harry and she saw something... empathetic. Something that no one else had given off. It was almost like he knew exactly what Harry was going through; making a sacrifice for someone you love. Hermione wondered if Aiden had ever done something like that. Had he ever sacrificed for anyone in the past? Had he even felt that kind of love?

 _He is scared out of his mind that something will happen to you. Because of how much he loves you_. The golden-haired girl started to shift uncomfortably, for an intense feeling of guilt came over her. She became even more wary of the so-called ex-Death Eater because he somehow made her forgive her best friend.

Hermione looked over at her nightstand and she noticed the fallen over quill on her letter to Ginny. She chuckled softly. She'd have to finish that one later. Hermione grabbed the parchment, stuffed it into the drawer, and then grabbed a fresh one to replace it. She dipped her quill in ink as she reached for her wand. She chanted a charm on the wand to again write what she says. Hermione stepped back from the nightstand as the quill levitated above the parchment, ready to scratch down her words.

She took a breath. "Dearest Harry: Even though you deliberately went against my wishes by writing to me every single night, I'm willing to overlook it. Partly because the smell of burnt parchment is starting to stink up my room. But mostly because I'm forgiving you and apologizing to you. Aiden, for reasons I can't explain, has helped me see the truth." Hermione paused. The memory of Aiden in the Death Eater mask came to her mind, his pale gray eyes standing prominently... "The truth that I can afford to love and afford to hope again."... his striking, oddly familiar eyes.

Hermione took a sharp gasp as the quill fell onto the parchment. She growled and shook her head out. She could not concentrate. She hated that, somehow after everything, _he_ still got to her. Hermione thought she'd lose him to a distant memory by now, but he viciously crept up on her. And it did not help that Aiden ever so slightly reminded her of Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco was twiddling his quill in his fingers as he sat at his desk. A large stack of blank parchment sat in front of him. He chewed on his lip, wondering how he was going to fill each page with heartfelt, romantic, words to Granger. This was another thinking thing. He remembered Halloween night and how Granger was mourning the "death of romance" and "love letters". It was a brilliant idea. The problem was that Draco didn't have a romantic bone in his body. Well, that was a lie, but he would die of mortification if people knew of the ridiculous, borderline Shakespeare sonnet, thoughts he had of Granger. Draco sighed, knowing that was pretty much the goal of the love letter. He just didn't exactly know how he would articulate his feelings on paper. Plus, he didn't exactly know _what_ he felt.

His eyes shifted to the right side of the desk. Granger's rose colored glasses rested on the mahogany wood. It was collecting dust, but the deep burgundy color was gleaming from the light rays permeating through Draco's bedroom window. Draco smiled. The last time he saw those glasses was when Granger had them on as part of her hippie costume. She was sighing and swooning over "sappy and soppy" romance. That was one of the things that made her different from the other girls Draco had been with. All of the other girls focused on the surface- the physical aspect- of the relationship. It was paper thin. However, Granger honed in on the deep, emotional part. It was extremely foreign to Draco, but it was somehow endearing at the same time.

Draco turned back to his blank parchment, dipping his quill in ink. He took a deep breath and began the letter:

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I've been thinking about letters recently. The real kind. Longhand. And how it's terrible that no one is writing them anymore. So I've decided to start one to you today._

* * *

"Wait, you're doing _what_?" William asked, holding his cup of tea to his lips. He was about to sip, but he stopped when he heard what a ridiculous plight Draco was attempting.

"I'm writing a love letter to Granger," Draco responded, his eyes and quill still focused on the parchment on the kitchen table.

"I know _that,_ but a letter every single day for a year?"

Draco stopped writing and gave his tutor an annoyed look. "What's wrong with that?"

William put his hands up. "Nothing! It's just not like you. "

"What's not like me?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Y'know..." William tried gesticulating with his hands. "All this 'mushy' stuff."

Draco snickered. "This _mushy_ stuff."

"Yeah, you just don't seem like a mushy kind of guy. You're more of a broody, constipated guy."

"Hilarious." Draco deadpanned. "But Granger happens to be into this mushy stuff. She's very into these, and I quote, 'sappy, soppy, longhand love letters'. This letter shows my commitment."

The blind man snorted. "Yeah, you know what it also shows? That you cry at chick flicks and sleep with stuffed animals."

Draco winced and was about to come back with a riposte but Isabella walked in, struggling with a large carpet back. "Would you help me out?"

Draco jumped up and took the bag and placed it on the table. He then excitedly opened the bag and took out its contents. Isabella sighed out of exhaustion. "Did you really need every single piece of literature that Jane Austen has written?"

William busted out laughing as blood rushed to Draco's cheeks. "You did not!" William cried out in between chortles. "You're going to be a bookworm now? A _Muggle_ bookworm? Oh, this is rich. Again, I didn't peg you as the type."

Placing a hand on Draco's shoulder, Isabella reassured Draco. "I think it's sweet."

" _You're_ not helping," he hissed at the housekeeper. He then turned to his tutor. "And _you_ won't be laughing when this actually works."

"Okay, okay. Calm down. It's just kind of remarkable seeing how this girl is changing you. I like it."

Draco smiled. "I agree." For once, Draco didn't want to punch his tutor in the gut after he said anything. Granger _was_ changing him. It was very subtle but still noticeable. He just hoped to Merlin that Granger would at least notice.

The kitchen went silent as the faint sound of footsteps on wood echoed throughout the house. "Hermione is coming down," Isabella whispered.

"Shite!" Draco shouted breathily.

"Hide," William said hurriedly.

At that moment, the whole room scrambled and was filled with whisper-yelling. Isabella was pushing Draco around to find a hiding spot while William was directing her to go out and distract Granger. It was the quietest chaos the world had ever known. Draco ultimately decided on the kitchen curtains as his hiding spot. He grabbed the letter and sprinted behind the thick and moldy drapes. William stayed in his spot to appear natural and Isabella ran out to distract Granger for a moment.

"Hi, Hermione how are you?" Isabella cheerfully and nonchalantly asked while walking out of the kitchen.

"I'm great. Have you seen Aiden?"

As the two women chatted away, Draco was choking on the dust of the one hundred-year-old curtain. He began to cough quietly.

"Shut up," William muttered.

"You shut up! I'm suffocating on my cousin's ancient skin cells-"

The tutor hushed him. "Oi! She's coming."

Everything went silent again as Granger entered the kitchen. She walked in slowly, it being her first time in a long time in there. Draco was holding his breath, in fear that she would hear him from behind the curtain inhaling and exhaling.

"Hello. I'm Hermione," she greeted William, giving a small wave.

William stood up and extended his arm. "Hi. William. A pleasure!"

"Um, is Aiden around?" she asked, after shaking his hand. Draco's heart jumped to his throat. Was she asking for _him_? Literally, a day before she couldn't even look at him. Draco had to literally keep himself from jumping out of the curtains to reveal himself. He remembered that she still hadn't seen his face yet, and that was a whole other bridge to cross.

"No, I haven't seen him. I think he's-" William immediately started giggling. Both Granger and Draco contorted their face in puzzlement.

"What's so funny?" Granger asked.

"Oh, it's just the fact that I used the expression 'I haven't seen'. It's funny cause I literally cannot see. Y'know... cause I'm blind."

Draco mouthed the words, _What in the bloody hell?!_ behind the curtain. He heard Granger give a small, sympathetic laugh. Draco wanted to wring his tutor's neck with the crusty curtain.

William caught on to the awkwardness. "Oh, Merlin. I'm sorry. I haven't gotten out much these past few months. I'm obviously losing my social graces. Let's start over." The blind man extended his hand again. "Hi. William. A pleasure! No, I haven't seen Aiden today. Sorry"

Granger shook his hand with a chuckle. "It's okay, I just wanted to ask him if he knew if there were any more books laying about."

"Oh! Well, there's a library-"

"Yeah, but I've read all of those books. I was actually wondering if he had any books written by Muggle authors."

Both William and Draco raised their eyebrows. "Really?" William coughed out.

"Yeah-" Granger's eyes fell on the books on the table. Her eyes lit up. "Are these yours?"

"No. Actually, they belong to Aiden. An all-around, way good guy who's a total Muggle bookworm."

Draco inwardly groaned. He didn't know whether his tutor was badly helping or purposely depleting his chances with this girl.

Granger started beaming. "Are you serious? I didn't see him as the sort of guy."

"Trust me." William slightly turned his head toward the curtain. "No one did."

Draco rolled his eyes. But he was relieved when Granger sounded pleased about his apparent bookworm-ness. William would have to eat his heart out.

"Well, do you think he'll mind if I take one? I already finished the one he gave me." Granger asked.

"Oh yeah! Go ahead." William answered.

Granger nodded her thanks and then trotted upstairs to her room.

Once Draco knew it was safe, he bounded out of the curtains and started laughing. "Suck on that, Blindie! She's half in love with me already."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You still need to read the books, lover-boy. You can't fake it with this girl."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Draco retorted mockingly. "Oh, and what was with incredibly awkward 'joke' you pulled?"

William groaned while rubbing his forehead. "Yeah. Sorry about that. It's just that I haven't seen the sun and talked to the same two people for months. So you can't blame me for short-circuiting while talking so a new person for the first time in eternity."

A pang of guilt hit Draco square in the chest. He remembered that William and Isabella were also prisoners in this hellhole. Their escape solely depended on whether or not Draco's curse would break. It was either that or to wait for the year drag on. And neither of them complained. Well, at least to his face. Either way, Isabella and William were sacrificing a year of their life to babysit a whiny arsehole. And he didn't thank them once.

"Sorry," Draco mumbled, staring at the floorboards.

William waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. Apologize after that girl falls in love with you. Speaking of, when are you planning on revealing to her the face of her Prince Charming?"

That was the one wrinkle. Draco had no idea how she was going to react to seeing him full on. He remembered the horrified expression spread across Madam Pomfrey's face when she saw him in the Hospital Wing. She saw him as a monster. Draco's stomach churned at the thought of Granger reacting the same way. Would she run? Scream? Stare in disgust? Either way, he had to face her at some point.

Draco exhaled. "I'm working on that. How would one exactly go about revealing their mutilated face?"

"Hmmm." William hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I'd say just go for it. Don't give her any warnings or anything. You're not revealing an ugly face. You're revealing _your_ face. Take the whole 'ugly' and 'shameful' thing and turn it into something _not._ If Granger really is the one, I promise you, she won't care one bit about how you look. If she does, then she's no better than the rest of them." The tutor slowly stood up and stretched out his cane across the floor. "And who knows? She may be into the whole hardcore, battle scar, ink-mutilation type of guy."

"Funny!" Draco called out at as his tutor hobbled out of the kitchen.

He turned around headed for his room. On the way, the family tapestry caught the corner of his eye from the drawing room. Draco pivoted and crept in. The last time he was in this God-forsaken room was when he scorched his portrait on the wall. The blackened image made him cringe. The tapestry as a whole haunted him. It was a constant reminder of his stained past, and he desperately wanted to erase it. Draco was considering burning the whole tapestry, but then it may cause the whole room to set on fire. Draco couldn't say that he didn't entertain the idea. Even the part about setting the whole drawing room ablaze. But in turn, it could've set the whole house on fire and the room would just have been more wretched. Abruptly, William's words came to mind. _Take the whole 'ugly' and 'shameful' thing and turn it into something not._

Draco raised both of his eyebrows. A sudden idea flashed through. Draco jogged over to the window and he found a fine layer of dust blanketed over the curtains. Draco tugged at them, and they came plunging to the floor. Dust exploded from the fabric on impact but the sun's rays, which was concealed behind the drapes, came pouring through the window pane. It automatically gave the room a new life with the natural light. Draco planted himself in front of the window and faced the room. He imagined what the room would look like; Floor to ceiling shelves, a ladder with wheels propped up against them, cushions and couches, reading lamps. Draco grinned and slowly nodded his head at the picturesque scene in his mind's eye. He had another thinking thing. He was going to build Granger a new library.

* * *

When Draco told Isabella and William about his idea, they were completely on board, after William made fun of him first of course. But then Draco told them that he wanted to build the library without magic. And then William made fun of him even more.

The reason Draco wanted to build the library without magic was because he wanted to put in as much work as possible. He wanted to show his care and thought into this gift to Granger. It was going to be special. But he knew he was crazy for attempting this. He had absolutely no clue on how to use a hammer and nail, a drill, or whatever other Muggle tools were out there. Isabella had bought him a Muggle book entitled _Woodworking for Dummies._ At first, he scoffed at the insulting book. He was hardly a dummy. He was an excelling student. Why were Muggles so bloody demeaning? But he cracked it open and learned Muggle techniques in building structures. Soon, he began working on the library.

It was a slow, and steady (mostly slow) process. He had lost count of the number of crooked shelves he created and the splinters he received as a result. Isabella ordered the lumber and bought the tools Draco needed. And thanks to the very large Malfoy/ Black fortune, she was able to order first editions of the Muggle literary classics. _Frankenstein, The Great Gatsby, 1984, A Tale of Two Cities_ were among of the plethora of priceless books that came in. Isabella also ordered luxurious furniture. Plush couches, armchairs, marble tables, and mahogany chairs came flooding into Grimmauld Place. It was William's job to keep Granger occupied and in her room, as far away as possible from the drawing room.

This process went on for four weeks and the world was turning from Autumn to Winter during this time period. Getting in the furniture and decorations proved difficult what with traveling through the snowy weather. But, in the middle of December, the library was finally complete.

Isabella and Draco stood in the same spot he stood a month before. Only this time, the image in Draco's head came to life before his eyes.

Isabella squeezed Draco's arm. "I love it! It's beautiful," she squealed.

"Do you think she will like it?"

"Of course!"

Draco looked down at the housekeeper and smiled. "When do you think I should show it to her?"

"Well, I think you need to show her something _else_ first." Isabella let go of his arms and looked at him sternly. "You need to actually meet this girl face to face."

Draco exhaled with exasperation. "I know. I just don't know the right time."

"Well better sooner than later." Isabella lifted Draco's left arm and turned it so his tattoo faced up . The tree on his arm was covered in snow. "Time is ticking."

* * *

In the dead of night, Draco was sitting in the kitchen working on his letter to Granger. It was that time of night where everything was quiet. Your thoughts came in more clearly without all of the white noise from the daytime. Draco also enjoyed the solitude the night brought. He was alone, but not lonely. There was also a sick joy in being awake when everyone else was asleep. Well... _almost_ everyone.

"Hi," Granger called out softly from the entryway of the kitchen. Draco jumped and immediately flipped his letter upside down while turning his body away from her. Thank Merlin his hood was already up. Draco gave Granger a small grunt of acknowledgment, still startled by her sudden appearance.

"So are we ever going to really meet?" she asked.

"Mm-hmm."

Granger stepped into the dimly lit kitchen. "Like now?"

"No." Draco retorted sharply. He instantly regretted it.

"Okay..." Hermione was taken aback by his gruff response.

Draco was relieved that he didn't hear her walk away. She still remained in the kitchen, and still talked to the man who refused to look at her. "How long have you been here?"

"Only since the end of September."

"Do you have any family?"

Draco bit his lip. He thought of his parents. His father with the Dark Lord and his mother in hiding. "Yes. But I haven't seen them in ages. To be honest, they're kind of... outcasts."

To Draco's astonishment, Granger related to him. "Trust me, I know what you mean. Both of my parents are Muggles so they're looked down upon by the entirety of the magical world. It's worse than it ever has been what with Voldemort's deep hatred for their kind. And I'm scared shiteless for them." Granger laughed, attempting to conceal her distress. "Anyway, it feels like forever since I've seen them."

She then sat down at the head of the table. "So... both of our parents are outcasts. We both haven't seen them for awhile. It's too bad we have nothing in common," Granger stated sarcastically.

Draco smiled. He wondered what she would do if she knew that she just claimed that she and Draco Malfoy had something in common. She would probably go berserk.

Granger continued the small talk. "So I finished the book you gave me."

"What did you think?"

"I loved it! It was brilliantly written, filled with wit and romance." Draco slightly turned his head toward her. She was speaking with the same fire and passion that he had only seen her do a few times. But it still had the same intoxicating effect on him. "The way that Darcy changed his ways for the woman he loved was just exquisite. He truly was a prat before that."

"Well, I think Darcy gets a bad rap," Draco responded while grinning. He had done his homework and read the book as well. "He really did have good intentions the entire time."

Granger raised a quizzical brow. "Are you joking? _He_ was the one that took Bingley away from Jane, just because he thought her family was just a group of gold-diggers."

"Well, the main reason was that he thought Jane had no interest in Bingley. Darcy pulled him out as a friend protecting a friend from heartbreak. Plus, you've got to admit, the mom _was_ a gold digger."

Granger scoffed. "Okay. But when Darcy proposed to Elizabeth he outright told her that he loved her against his better judgment. Like, he was embarrassed he loved her since she was a lower class. And then he was utterly shocked that she rejected him."

"What?! So you _wouldn't_ accept a proposal that was basically: 'I really shouldn't like you since you're poor but marry me anyway?' " Draco replied playfully.

"Well if you put it _that_ way it sounds oddly charming!"

Both started cracking up. Draco was mesmerized by her laugh. He had only seen her this blissful, again, only a few times before. He remembered her skipping around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, carefree and joyfully. Knowing that _he_ was the cause for her bliss, this time, was more than he could have asked for.

Once the two settled down, Draco asked her a question. "Granger, do you miss school?"

"Call me Hermione. And yes I miss it like a natural born nerd," she responded with a smile.

Draco was caught off guard. He had never called her by her first name. It seemed like something reserved for the ones closest to her."Well Gran- Hermione, I have classes with William if you would like to come." That was a mostly true statement. There _were_ classes, but they just hadn't ever started them.

Hermione's smile grew wider. "Yes! I would love to. Tomorrow?"

Draco nodded. Oh, Merlin. William was going to kill him.

"Okay! Great!" She stood up from her chair. "Well, I guess goodnight then." Hermione turned to leave.

"Wait."

Draco heard her footsteps falter. His stomach lurched in anxiety. This was the point of no return. This would either be the first or last time she'd see him fully. This was when he found out if he would ever become a man again or if he would remain a beast. As Draco stood up, a thousand possible reactions raced through his mind. Would she flee? Scream? Stare in horror? He held his breath and lowered his black hood as he ever so slowly turned to face Hermione.

Draco swore that this moment lasted for an eternity. The silence from Hermione was deafening. He was standing there, feeling naked and vulnerable, watching her every move. He saw her jaw drop faintly. His heart fell, thinking it was out of disgust.

Draco spoke. "Pretty gruesome, huh?"

His heart skipped a beat when she started walking toward him. With every step she took, his pulse quickened. She was then mere inches away from him. His breath stopped and his eyes shut completely as she raised her delicate palm to his face. Draco instantly recalled the day in the office. He remembered her grasping his face gently as she healed his bleeding cheek. That day was the first day in a long time he had felt something other than cold- the first time he felt anything at all. That day, Hermione made him feel like a real person with a beating heart that had a life that was worth living, and today was no different. He just now prayed to God that she wouldn't run screaming.

Hermione merely looked at him as she held him, and whispered, "I've seen worse."

And in that moment, Draco knew that Hermione Granger was going to save him.


	13. A Man He Could Be

Draco was stuck in time. He laid on his bed replaying the _moment_ in his mind all through the night, losing track of the hour. The _moment_ happened in the blink of an eye. But he could recall every minute detail of when he unveiled himself to Hermione. He could still feel her porcelain hand cupping his cheek which made his stomach scream. Instead of looking at him revulsion, which was expected, her brown eyes swept over him with wonder. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and his own feeble attempts to slow down his breath. But as the words: _I've seen worse_ rolled off her tongue, Draco instantly felt calm and relief. Yet, somehow, he felt even more worried at the same time. Hermione soothed his disquiet about her initial reaction but he suddenly felt nervous about... proving himself... he suddenly just wanted to be good enough. Good enough for _her_.

He tried to put this feeling into a word as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. The ceiling was like a movie screen on which Draco projected the memory of that moment. It seemed to rewind itself and start over again after Hermione said: _I've seen worse_ endlessly _._ He shook his head with a crooked smile. He was slightly embarrassed at himself. If you told Draco Malfoy, the purest of the purebloods, that Muggle-born Hermione Granger would leave him weak in the knees after saying a phrase as trifling as _I've seen worse_ at the start of term, he would have laughed sardonically and then probably hex you for being so dense. Draco chuckled darkly. The thought that an almost sarcastic saying gave him that same feeling of a love sonnet should give absolutely sounded dense. Stranger things have happened, though, he admitted.

The fact remained that Hermione didn't react as others had before- flinching, gasping, screaming, and even running away- and just played off his grotesque and monstrous appearance as something trivial. What he looked like did not matter. That was what truly gave him _that_ feeling. That feeling of serenity, contentment, and possessing an anxious desire to be a better man. Draco let his eyelids descend as he exhaled deeply. He still didn't know exactly what the feeling was, or what to call it; the combination of peace and anxiety that he got from Hermione. He came to the conclusion that _smitten_ would be a good enough word for now; Draco Malfoy was smitten by Hermione Granger.

Satisfied, the pale boy rolled over to his side to at last get some sleep. He scrunched up his face in annoyance as light from the window slowly began seeping through his closed eyelids. He squinted his eyes as he opened them and he saw the dewy light in the window. Draco groaned, knowing that any attempt at getting any sleep at this point would be futile, and stood up. He dragged himself to the window and looked out of it. Dawn was breaking and the sun was barely scratching the surface of the horizon. Draco yawned loudly, guessing that it was around 8 0'clock. The sun always rose so late in the Winter.

He was then suddenly struck with the terrible feeling of forgetting something. He couldn't tell if he was nauseous or just imagining it. A Remembrall would have been useful at that point. Draco then reminisced about his first year Hogwarts at his first flying lesson. He was always a skilled enough flyer and he recalled gliding up on his broom, Neville Longbottom's Remembrall clutched in his hand. And then, of course, noble Potter had to join him in the air, threatening to knock Draco off his broom if he didn't hand over the stupid glass ball. Draco laughed in chagrin at the memory. Potter and Draco always got a rise out of each other, even over an insignificant Remembrall. Oddly, it almost made him miss school.

His smile suddenly disappeared. He realized that if he _did_ have a Remembrall at that point, red smoke would be filling it up; Draco completely forgot that he was supposed to be tutored by William with Hermione that day in lessons that hadn't even begun. Draco sprinted out of his room and to William's door. His small rapping on the wood quickly evolved to full on, impatient pounding with his fist. William finally creaked it open, looking groggy in his pajamas with disheveled hair and a weary expression.

Draco began before the tutor had time to voice his annoyance. "We'rehavingschooltodaybutyouneedtomakeitseemlikewedidn'tjuststart." Draco took a breath and finished, "AndIneedtolooksmart."

He gave William some time to process his speed test of a statement. After a while, Draco justified the last bit. "Hermione is coming," the pale boy muttered quietly.

The blind man made an exaggerated noise of clarification while raising an eyebrow and giving his student a devilish grin. Draco's ears turned crimson.

"Shut up," Draco hissed, his cheeks turning the same color as his ears. "What are we studying?"

"Don't worry, I'll come up with something graphic and humiliating," replied William dismissively, stifling a yawn.

"No, no, no," the pale boy urgently said. "I need to know what it is _now._ I need the answers in advance!"

"Er, yeah, that's called cheating."

"No, that's called 'trying to get a girl to like you while you look like the lead in a slasher flick'," Draco retorted, gesturing to himself.

The tutor sighed and then started to list off some topics, which were quickly shut down. "Potions-"

"-Too obvious"

"History of Magic-"

"-Dull."

"Er, Transfiguration?-"

"-Cliché!"

"No. _Cliché_ is 'the guy liking school to impress the girl'."

Draco ignored his snide remark and then made a suggestion himself. "How about we do some Muggle studies. Specifically literature."

The tutor did not reply, stunned at the proposition.

Draco filled the silence. "You _are_ qualified to teach-"

"-I _am_ ," the blind man interjected. "But why do you want them taught?"

This time, Draco went quiet. He didn't really have an explanation. It just seemed such a perfect thing to study with Hermione. After what she told him last night, about her parents, he was hoping to help ease her homesickness. Studying Muggle literature with her would, hopefully, do just that. In the past, Draco would have believed that any Muggle subjects were rubbish and a waste of time. After all, witches and wizards were superior in every way. Muggles, along with everything else wrong with them, were mundane. But Draco was discovering that this wasn't the truth at all. Muggles were brilliant. He learned this from reading their deep and complex literature. He was finding that the only difference Muggles and wizards was that lucky touch of magic. They both had brains and beating hearts. They breathed the same oxygen and the blood that pumped through their veins was the same color. And now that he was thinking about it, the same thing could have been said for Muggle-borns.

 _Your pureblood looks exactly like my mudblood_. Hermione's observation from that fateful day in the Head Boy and Girl office coursed through Draco's mind. He hadn't really given it much thought it before. He was preoccupied with Hermione tracing the scar on his face with her feather-light fingertips, which was a foreign and almost uncomfortable experience at the time. But now that he looked back, he realized how much weight the statement had. It was true. Completely true. "Blood" did not signify a person's worth.

William took Draco's expression of deep thought as an answer and smiled. "Okay."

Draco blinked rapidly as he was pulled out of his daydream. He grinned. "Really?"

"Yes. But not today."

Draco's grin instantly fell. "Why?"

"Hermione's only been here for about a month and a half. Plus, she has actually come down from her bedroom for a very small portion of that time."

"So?"

" _So,_ she's still adjusting. If you really want her to be more comfortable, then give her something she's already comfortable with. Hogwarts is her safe haven; her friends are there, and she is obviously most engaged in a Hogwarts classroom. We should try to make this environment as familiar as possible."

"Okay! So what you're saying is that I should build a Quidditch field in the backyard and then call Hermione a mudblood and make fun of her bushy hair and big teeth. Brilliant!" Draco barked caustically.

William sighed. "No. _What I'm saying_ is that you should take it slow with her."

"I don't have _time_ to take it slow!" Draco moaned, brandishing his tattooed forearm. He looked down at the tattoo, staring at the pile of snow on top of the tree, slightly making it droop. He only had until the flowers bloomed fully on the tree to find someone to love him, so until the end of Spring. Draco then suddenly realized that he had much less than a year. He got the Unbeautify Curse in September! Millicent short-changed him! He would need to pay that witch a visit at some point. He swore that when he got his hands on her, he'd-

" Draco, you can't rush this," William said, putting an end to Draco's violent thoughts. "I mean we are talking about _love_ here. _Real love._ Now I doubt that if anyone just told you 'I love you' carelessly, it would break the curse. This curse requires very old and powerful magic. The same magic that saved Harry Potter from being killed by Voldemort."

"Love," Draco said shortly.

" _Love,_ " William repeated. "And it needs time to develop. You can't expect her to truly love you if she doesn't know anything about you. "

Draco stared at him. He really didn't know why his tutor was giving him a lecture on "love" this early in the day. He just wanted a simple reason why William didn't want to teach Muggle literature.

The pale boy really didn't want to continue to argue with William and he was worried that Granger would be waking up soon. "Alright. Teach the magical subjects. Make it as comfortable, familiar, and as Hogwarts-y as possible, " Draco gave in with a derisive tone.

William raised his eyebrows in contentment and surprise from the surrender of Draco. "Alright." he proceeded to shut his door.

Suddenly, Draco lurched forward and shot his hand between the doorframe and the door, preventing it from closing. "Wait, wait! I still need smart things to say!"

The tutor scoffed. "Good luck with that..." The door shut in Draco's face.

 _Thanks a million._ Draco thought. A wave of panic then crashed onto him. He felt extremely unprepared for that day's lesson and he hoped that he could find some way to impress Hermione before it started. Merlin, he wished he had more time to get more Butterbeer, memorize a poem, or do some romantic gesture.

Sounds of clinking pans and sizzling then echoed from downstairs. Isabella! She would surely give him an idea. Draco dashed into the kitchen and saw the housekeeper cooking some bacon in a pan. "Isabella!"

She turned toward him, prodding the bacon at the same time. "Morning, Draco! Set the table please?"

Draco grunted in impatience and strode over to a cabinet to get the table settings. "Isabella, I need another thinking thing," he stated, clumsily tossing the plates and utensils down onto the table.

She turned around to face him, pan in hand. "Cups?" she said tersely.

Draco grunted again as he rushed to get the cups from the cabinet. "It's for this morning in class. I need another thing Hermione would like." Draco practically threw the cups down to their places, half of them fallen on their side.

Isabella turned off the stove and slid the pile of bacon onto a platter. Next to it were separate platters of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and toast. "Grab a couple of these, will ya?" the housekeeper asked.

Draco rolled his eyes and did what he was told. It was like she was trying to ignore him. Once the platters of food were on the table, Draco tried again. "Isabella. Thinking th-"

She interrupted. "The thing about 'thinking things' is that they should come from _you,_ not _me._ "

"Please! I just need someone to bounce ideas off of."

The housekeeper sighed and motioned for him to go on.

"How about flowers?"

Isabella sighed once more, this time in disappointment, and shook her head.

"Er... more Butterbeer?" Draco proposed.

She shook her head again.

Draco threw his arms in the air with frustration. "Come on Isabella!"

"Don't _Come on Isabella_ me! You're trying to buy her again!"

"But the Butterbeer and book worked perfectly last time!"

"That's because it was an icebreaker- a peace offering if you will. Now that you two are acquainted, you need actually build a relationship. And you can't do that with gifts."

Draco inwardly moaned and realized she was right. The truth was that he was never used to this kind of courtship. Building a relationship with Pansy consisted solely of gifts and snogging. It had seemed too easy to him. Looking back, there was no real relationship at all. They knew nothing about each other and they never really cared about each other either.

 _Are you honestly that shallow?_ Draco's pulse quickened as he remembered another moment with Hermione in that office. She was appalled at his reasons for having Pansy as a girlfriend, and he could now see why. Hermione was right again. He _was_ that shallow.

"What do you suggest?" he eventually asked.

"Hermione will like it when you're being _kind_..."

"Well, I suck at that." Draco retorted, deflated.

Isabella continued. "...When you are being yourself."

"What, _this_ self or the jerk I was?" Draco lashed out, pointing to his chest.

The housekeeper gently placed a hand on his right shoulder. She looked at him with her piercing eyes, saying firmly and sincerely, "The man I know you to be."

Stillness settled between the two. Draco's apprehension was lifted ever so slightly as Isabella's words. He privately hoped that one day Hermione would see that man in him as well and, Merlin willing, he'd see that in himself.

"Boy, I am starved," declared William as he moseyed in five minutes later, his cane making swooshing movements in front of him.

Draco led him to a chair and helped him sit down. The blind man nodded his thanks and placed his cane against the back of his chair. Draco then started to pile food onto William's plate when a certain golden-haired girl standing in the kitchen threshold startled him.

She smiled at Draco which caused him to drop the platter of pancakes onto the table. "Woah! Ground control to Major Tom: everything alright up there?" William asked, staggered by the impact of the clay platter.

Draco didn't hear. He just stood there, stupidly smiling at Hermione. He attempted to stammer out a greeting, but all he managed to get out were unintelligible noises.

Isabella saved him. "Good morning Hermione!"

"Morning," she responded brightly, tearing her eyes away from Draco. "Would you all mind if I joined you for breakfast?"

"NO," Draco said loudly. He cleared his throat in mortification and continued. "I- _we_ would love to have you."

Hermione beamed, which gave Draco the sensation of something in his stomach desperately pushing against the walls, trying to get out.

He pulled out a chair next to his and Hermione glided over and sat down. She murmured a "thanks" as he carefully pushed the seat in.

The whole table enjoyed a pleasant conversation as they ate. Hermione was noticeably loquacious. She asked and answered questions and even told a few funny stories of past events that occurred in that very kitchen. "...Fred and George had turned seventeen so they were taking advantage of their now lawful magic use constantly. They were always Apparating and they even one time bewitched a cauldron of stew, a flagon of Butterbeer, and a breadboard to levitate onto the table. Well, they did more crashing than levitating. Butterbeer and stew to spilled all over the place and the cauldron left a scorch mark." Hermione's eyes scanned the surface of the table. "Ah! Here it is," she exclaimed, pointing to a large black spot burned onto the table.

The lot of them laughed heartily at the tale, but Draco wasn't paying enough attention to. He was transfixed on Hermione. She seemed remarkably comfortable; she was conversing with them like they were old friends and she was found almost always with a toothy grin on her face. _Almost_. Draco could sense a fraction of tension from her, and honestly, who could blame her? She was isolated from her friends, family, and the outside world. She was terrified for her parents, not knowing if they were safe. And Draco knew that she would much rather be out searching and destroying Horcruxes with her best friends than living with strangers, one of whom having the physicality of a monster. But at least she wasn't closing herself off in her room anymore, and she didn't look at Draco with pure loathing anymore. In fact, she looked at him happily. He had ever before seen that look from her even as his normal self. Of course, he was a downright git back then.

When they were all reclining in their seats with full stomachs, Draco asked, "Ready for school?"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Yes! Will it be in the library?"

Draco nodded, and she leaped out of her chair. He followed her out of the kitchen but stopped her as she was heading the wrong way. "Hold on."

She turned to him with a quizzical brow. "You said it was in the-"

"Yes, but not _that_ one," Draco replied slyly. "I need you to close your eyes."

Her brow arched higher in confusion, but she did as she was told. Draco stepped behind her and gently whispered, "It's a surprise."

The golden curls on the back of her head shook gently as she giggled. "Okay... I'm trusting you," she said playfully.

"Bad idea," Draco jested, turning back to face her. He was watching her as she stood with shut eyes, the corners of her mouth turned faintly upward. He tentatively reached down and grabbed her hand, and to his enormous relief, he felt a small squeeze back. Draco was frightened that she would jerk back. The mere fact that she _didn't_ made Draco's heart skip beats.

He carefully led the girl to the entrance of the old drawing room. On the way, he kept looking back at her and seeing that her eyes were still completely closed. Once they made it, he let go of her hand and ran to open the curtains. He could see her mouth open and the corners of her eyes squint as the sunshine hit her face. "Can I open them now?" she asked with anticipation.

Draco trotted to stand beside her. "Open."

He heard a gasp come from Hermione, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. She walked into the room, twirling slightly to soak in every inch of the library. She flounced to the bookshelves, skimming her fingers over the titles. She was quietly giggling the whole time, in total awe of the library. Draco watched her silently dance around the room. He recalled her being in the same state when she was in Hogsmeade. She was acting with reckless abandon, completely carefree. This Draco's favorite side to Hermione; when she let go of any obligation or expectation and just _lived_. Then again, this may have been the true Hermione all along.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked with a smile as she explored.

" _Like_ it? I _love_ it!" Hermione exclaimed, her brown eyes still flitting throughout the room.

"Then it's yours."

Hermione stopped abruptly and looked at Draco. Her irises were swimming with wonder and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

Draco suddenly felt a little warmer.

As he walked in, Hermione asked Draco, "How did you do it?"

"Er, I just figured it out," he fibbed, running a hand behind his head.

He watched her eyes flicker down to a table beside him and she began to snicker. He followed her gaze and saw, in horror, the book _Woodworking for Dummies._ He snatched the book, threw it on the ground, and kicked it away. He cleared his throat awkwardly as Hermione was laughing away. He noticed how her nose scrunched up and her curls bounced around her head when she laughed. He had seen this before, and the sight was awfully endearing. Hermione was probably the only person whom he allowed to laugh at him, simply to watch her do it, and he was doing just that in this moment.

"Am I late to class?" William voiced as he strolled into the library.

Hermione covered her mouth to stop her giggles as she and Draco flipped around to face the tutor. "Yes you are," Draco griped out of spite. He was a little bitter that William interrupted his time with Hermione.

"Tardy slip for me then," William noted facetiously as he sat down at a table. Draco and Hermione joined him. "Now Hermione, you mentioned this morning to me that you had a class schedule-?" the blind man inquired.

"Oh yes!" Hermione then listed her classes. Draco's jaw plummeted as she stated that all of them were N.E.W.T. level.

William, however, seemed unfazed. "Sounds great. Now Draco, would you mind if we deviate from our current syllabus to Hermione's classes?" William lowered his head at Draco, indicating to go along with it.

But Draco was having a hard time going along with it. Would he mind if he took the most difficult classes with the most clever witch of her age?! Of course! Draco was smart enough and had actually attended a few N.E.W.T. classes but Hermione had practically all that were offered. How, in Merlin's name, was he going to keep up with her?! But he knew that he had to grin and bear it, and to impress this girl at any cost. Draco swallowed and responded, "Not at all," attempting to sound natural.

The tutor then turned to them both. "Then let's begin."

 **A/N: Just wanted to drop a little note saying if you are out there please leave a review! I love your feedback and any comment about the story. I try to respond to every reviewer through PM at least once, so don't be shy! Thanks!**


	14. Of Otters and Foxes

The first day of class went much smoother than Draco had anticipated. Hermione had done most of the answering when William asked a question, which Draco did not mind at all. Surprisingly, the tutor was very thorough in every single subject, especially Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had Draco and Hermione practicing painstaking and difficult hexes and spells they hadn't even heard of. But William assured them that they were on the N.E.W.T. exam as he performed them effortlessly.

After the lessons, William trudged out of the library leaving his two students a mountain of homework. Hermione didn't complain, though, and started to work on it straight away. Draco, seeing the homework as an excuse to stay with Hermione, didn't either. The workload stayed true to its name, however, being nastily exhausting. But Hermione got through it smoothly and was very willing to help Draco out with his. Sometimes, Draco pretended to be stuck on a certain part just so Hermione would continue to engage with him.

After they both finished, they walked together to the kitchen to have dinner with Isabella and William. It was the same atmosphere as breakfast; they all chatted away in easy conversation, as Draco spent most dinner stealing glances at Hermione. Once everyone was finished, Draco accompanied Hermione to her bedroom and bade her goodnight.

This then became a routine that continued for days. Draco and Hermione woke up, had breakfast, ate lunch while doing homework, had dinner, and then Draco would walk Hermione to her room and then he would walk alone to his. On paper, it seemed quite dull, but it was far from it. Draco watched Hermione blossom increasingly every single day; her grins were wider, her eyes were brighter, and she became increasingly relaxed with Draco. He believed that Hermione was finally considering him as a friend. They had a long way to go, obviously, but a mutual trust had slowly formed between the two. Hermione was divulging more about herself which included basic facts such as her birthday, hometown, and family but also more personal details like her dreams, passions, and fears.

Hermione didn't need to tell Draco about her fears, though, because he could already discern them. At times when they were casually talking and their topic landed on the War, Hermione would hastily change the subject, especially when the topic of the War consisted of Potter and Weasley or her parents. Although Hermione had already forgiven her best friends, the mention of their names coupled along with "Voldemort", "Death Eaters" or "Horcruxes" touched a nerve in Hermione. As for her parents, Draco looked back to that fateful night when he revealed himself to her. She mentioned that she was "scared shiteless" for them, and then proceeded to softly laugh it off. Draco could definitely tell that she was trying to conceal the true degree of her fear. The Grangers were parents of the most infamous Muggle-born witch, putting monumental targets on their backs. They could be tortured and ransomed as a means to get to Hermione, or they could just be tortured or even murdered for the sick pleasure of Death Eaters. Hermione probably had nightmares about what they would do to her parents. However, they still refused protection. They believed that it would draw attention to them. Their daughter, of course, objected and argued that magical wards would be as discreet as possible. But they insisted. So Hermione was left practically petrified for her parents without the ability to do anything to keep them out of harm. What made it even worse was that she was stuck in this godforsaken house with complete strangers, not even out in the world fighting.

But Hermione still played her part well; having a carefree disposition and smiling face as terror raged on in the world. Draco theorized that she did this because she wasn't ready to confide in him fully yet... or she may have been possibly doing it for herself, not wanting to face the horrendous reality outside of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Sometimes, Draco could see small cracks in her armor. He noticed her eyes becoming glassy with tears but then suddenly furiously wiped away before they could spill. Sometimes, her smile was fake and her laugh was forced. But she still pushed on, being cheerful through the sadness.

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and they were suddenly in the beginning of March. Draco watched his tattoo change in unease. The snow had melted off the tree and green leaves were steadily growing. Draco's heart sank as he realized that it would be the first day of Spring in a few weeks. Time was certainly not on his side.

That morning at breakfast, Draco asked, "What are we doing today in class?"

William turned away from his cereal. "Well, we finished the normal syllabus of the classes so now we take the N.E.W.T.s"

Draco and Hermione looked at each other with shock. "You're joking, right? Are you even _allowed_ to test us?" Draco asked.

The tutor held up a piece of paper with a Ministry seal on it. "All set. Isabella is qualified as well to test you on the practical test." At the other end of the table, the housekeeper was waving her paper as well.

"William and I went to the Ministry over the weekend and got qualified to be N.E.W.T proctors. With the War going on, there are much more important things the Ministry has to worry about, especially with how corrupt it is now. We got the signature for only a few galleons and a couple of training sessions. I _still_ can't believe they let us, me being a Muggle and all," Isabella chimed in.

Hermione cocked her head in confusion. "So they're just going to let you grade the tests?"

"Well _I_ have to grade the practical but the written portion will be sent to the Ministry."

Draco and Hermione looked at each other again, this time with nervousness. "Will we have time to study?" Draco asked anxiously.

"Yes, you can take time to review. But honestly, you two don't need it. The earlier you take the tests, the fresher the information will be in your head," replied William, pressing his index finger to his temple.

There were a few moments of silence and then Hermione spoke up. "Well, let's study today and then take them after that."

Draco choked on his orange juice. _One day?!_ That is nowhere near enough time to prepare! "Er, Hermione? Are you sure?" Draco uttered, clearing his throat of pulp.

"Yes! I've seen your work. You will do great!" she assured.

"Then it's settled!" William stood up with his cane. "Isabella and I will prepare the tests so _you two_ should prepare _for_ them."

The housekeeper and the tutor shuffled out of the kitchen.

Draco and Hermione made their way into the library and studied like mad. They were testing each other on terms, dates, incantations, ingredients, hexes, jinxes, counter-spells, charms, and any little piece of information that could be on the N.E.W.T.s. Hermione was like a machine, scanning through every piece of parchment she had to review as much as possible. Draco snickered. It seemed rather barking to be worrying about something as insignificant as N.E.W.T.s in the middle of the War. But oddly, it was a small comfort. It was rather nice to focus on something else. Draco watched Hermione study furiously. The left corner of his mouth went up. Her eyebrows made creases in her forehead from concentrating, and her brown eyes swept swiftly from left to right on every piece of parchment. Draco now knew why Viktor Krum was always in the Hogwarts library during the Triwizard Cup; he was watching Hermione study as Draco was now. He couldn't deny that it _was_ rather intoxicating.

"What are you looking at?"

Draco whipped his head around as blood rushed to his cheeks. "N-nothing," he coughed out.

"Come on Aiden! We _need_ to focus."

Draco's face was quickly changing from his normal pale tone to a deep crimson as he cracked open a book on Transfiguration.

* * *

The N.E.W.T.s came and went much faster than Hermione had expected. Aiden and she both did the written portions in the library. She anticipated being much more nervous, but the test just felt like another assignment of homework. She surprised herself at how calm she was. Hermione remembered when she took her O.W.L.s her fifth year and being an absolute neurotic harpy, she was so stressed. But this time, it was completely different. Maybe it was the beautiful library they were testing in or the mere fact that Aiden was taking the same exam as her across the table, every so often looking up at her. But when she looked back, his eyes always darted away. Either way, she felt... serene.

Eventually, William called time. Hermione and Aiden both put their quills down with a sigh, massaging their wrists from the long period of time of writing. They had just finished History of Magic. It really was nastily exhausting, and the subject matter made it even more so, but it was the very last N.E.W.T. that they were taking

"It's over," Aiden said with exasperation. "Now what?"

" _Now,_ we will send these and your results of the practicals to the Ministry and you two have the rest of the week off," William answered.

The two students made exclamations of relief. "What are we going to do with ourselves?" Aiden asked, beaming.

"You'll figure something out," The tutor said dismissively as he hobbled out of the room.

Hermione could barely contain her excitement as she flew over to the bookshelves. The tutoring sessions with William had been outstanding and it almost felt like Hogwarts, but she was now yearning for that part of Hogwarts where she was huddled under a tree by the lake with a book while Harry and Ron skipped stones across the water. But for now, curling up on a plush cushion surrounded by books waiting to be delved into with Aiden keeping her company would suffice.

Hermione traced her finger along the spines of the books, browsing for one to pull out. She stopped in the "B" section and began to twiddle the fingers of her outstretched hand indecisively. She looked behind her, her curls swishing across her shoulder blades. Aiden had already selected one. He gripped the book with his right hand and read in a velvet armchair. His face was hard, but not cold. He appeared to be concentrating. Aiden's expression, along with twilight streaming through the window and onto his face, emphasized the sharp lines of his jaw and the brilliantly green tattoos interspersed on his pale skin.

She remembered the first time she saw Aiden fully. She was not disgusted. She was, in fact, intrigued. The tattoos were strange that they were almost beautiful. But what was most intriguing about that moment was his eyes. They were a stark contrast to what she had perceived of him before, which was rash and gruff. His eyes, however, spoke of fear and vulnerability. His pale, gray eyes were practically pleading for Hermione to do something. Or perhaps, to _not_ do something. Was he scared that she'd scream? Run? Stare in horror? She _did_ stare, but not because she was horrified. She was staring into his eyes because they were almost uncomfortably familiar...

A sudden image of Draco Malfoy flashed through her mind.

Suddenly, the very eyes she was just thinking about looked up at her. She flipped back around, her ears turning pink and her stomach doing somersaults.

"Alright?" he called to her with a twinge of concern.

"Just can't decide!" she called back, trying to hide the shaking in her voice. Hermione snatched the book in front of her without a mere glance at the title and settled herself on the love seat opposite Aiden.

"What did you decide?"

"Er..." Hermione's eyes fell down and examined the cover. " _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bronte. "

"Ah, I love that one," Aiden replied with admiration.

"What about you?"

" _Frankenstein_ by Mary Shelley. A classic." He was grinning warmly.

 _So he's well read_ , Hermione thought. To her chagrin and confusion, she began to blush scarlet. She looked away from him quickly as she awkwardly cracked open her book.

 _There was no possibility of taking a walk that day._

Hermione's mind wandered back onto Aiden. Why had she blushed? She really had no clue. It was like her body knew something that her mind didn't because it seemed to go haphazard at even the sight of him. And why? She hardly knew him! But that was false. She had learned the bare minimum about him during these past few months. He was seventeen years old. He was privately tutored in wizardry until he was fifteen, and then he ran away to become a Death Eater upon the return of Voldemort. Time passed and he left the Death Eaters when he found Dumbledore. The rest was history.

Hermione found his story to be incredibly farfetched but it still made her shudder. What could have induced him to leave his home and go join the Dark Lord's forces? Did he actually believe in their cause? Or did he feel like there was no other place to go?-

Hermione blinked rapidly and returned to her book.

 _There was no possibility of taking a walk that day._

-Perhaps Aiden was forced into it? Or wasn't he? Either way, it chilled Hermione to the bone that he left at the age of fifteen. When _she_ was fifteen, the biggest concern in her life was her coming up O.W.L.s. She couldn't imagine having the burden of performing the Dark Lord's bidding on her shoulders at that age. But then again, it _had_ happened before to a certain Slytherin boy she knew-

Hermione tore her eyes way from outer space and back onto the page.

 _There was no possibility of taking a walk that day._

-Maybe the more important question was what made Aiden leave the Death Eaters? Did it become more than he had bargained for? Did Dumbledore make him an offer that he couldn't turn down?... Or did he actually change his ways? Aiden had never made any snide remark about "blood" and he hadn't ever intentionally avoided her out of spite. In fact, the first few weeks _she_ avoided _him,_ and he at least tried to make contact with her. So it was possible that he was a redeemed man.

But then again, the last time she thought someone was redeemed she was wrong. Draco Malfoy returned to the ranks of the Death Eaters and he dragged Millicent Bulstrode with him. But there was a tiny part of her that didn't believe what Dumbledore told the school. For some inexplicable reason, she still had hope for him... So maybe she could afford it for Aiden as well.

She turned her head to look at him again. His chin was resting on his left fist which caused his robes to slip down his arm. Hermione saw his ever-present Dark Mark which was woven around an intricate tattoo tree. It was impossibly stunning. She had seen pictures similar to this tattoo in books. She couldn't quite recall fully what was written but she remembered part of the passage saying that the tattoos told some sort of story. Hermione wondered what story was behind Aiden's.

She continued to examine the tree wrung around by Voldemort's mark. Hermione then raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. The only possible way that the Dark Mark could've twisted its away around the tree like that was if Aiden received the tattoo _after_ the Dark Mark... So maybe he wasn't born the way he looked. Not that Hermione cared about his appearance, but if she knew how Aiden became like this she could learn more about him; learn more about his story-

Aiden looked up, puzzled. "Hermione?"

But she was startled by his eye contact and went back to her book, not hearing him call out her name. Now where was she? Oh yes. This person (she assumed Jane Eyre) really didn't want to go on a walk because... it wasn't a good day for it?

Hermione inwardly groaned. She hadn't even gotten past the first bloody sentence! It was all Aiden's fault; he was occupying her mind so she couldn't concentrate. He was like another Draco Malfoy. Hermione cringed and immediately took back that thought. The last thing she needed was another Draco Malfoy in her life-

"Hermione!"

She dropped the heavy book onto the floor. "Oh shite," she muttered as she picked it up, once again turning a deep shade of red. Why was it that Aiden suddenly made her lose all cognition? Thank Merlin that this was happening _after_ the N.E.W.T.s.

"Er... yes?" she responded, placing the book on the side table as gracefully as she could.

Aiden chuckled, still looking bewildered. "I think we need to address the horse in the room."

"What?" mouthed Hermione. She saw that he was looking past her so she followed his gaze and turned her head. A ghostly horse was standing by the window, pawing its hooves at the ground.

"Ginny!" Hermione jumped off the couch and ran to the window to open it.

"Ginny?" Aiden inquired, standing up.

"...Weasley. The horse is her patronus," Hermione clarified, wrenching the glass up and letting in the evening breeze. "We send our patronuses as a heads-up that a letter is coming and that we're safe."

At that moment, a tiny owl flew in through the open window, clutching a letter much too big for it. The Snitch-sized owl landed on the arm Hermione was holding up. "Thanks, Pig!" she said brightly, taking the letter from the owl's beak. The bird then hopped over to Hermione's hand and nipped a finger.

"Oh yes! The window is open in my room since Hedwig is expected soon. There are treats in there."

Pig hooted nervously, probably hoping that he wouldn't have to run into Harry's Snowy Owl, and glided out into the sky.

"What did you call that owl?" Aiden chortled, a smirk forming on his face.

"Pig. It's short for Pigwidgeon," Hermione made clear. "He's Ron Weasley's owl but Ginny uses him now that he's out with Harry looking for..." she trailed off. The reminder that her best friends were on a suicide mission without her there to help still sent a dull pain to the pit of her stomach. She _was_ expecting Hedwig to come that night with a letter from them, but there was always the chance something went wrong. Two weeks prior, Harry wrote that they were going on a mission with other members of the Order that consisted of trailing a group of Death Eaters. They hoped that they would be able to intercept the Death Eaters safely and still acquire knowledge of their destination before they got there. Harry predicted that if everything went perfectly, they would be done and safe by the end of two weeks. Hermione prayed that she would get a status update that night informing her of just that.

She cleared her throat and sat down whilst opening the letter. Hermione read the parchment silently. At the same time, she was catching glimpses of Aiden ogling at the horse. He appeared to be enthralled by the spectral animal, running his hand through its mane. Hadn't he ever seen a corporeal patronus before?

Hermione then got out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill with some ink. She dipped her quill and then wrote a quick response to Ginny:

 _Dearest Ginny,_

 _Thank you for your letter. Things are definitely... different since the last time I wrote you. I've been attending tutoring sessions with Aiden and we were actually able to take the N.E.W.T.s this week. Speaking of my ex-Death Eater of a roommate, he actually isn't that terrible. In fact, he's quite the contrary. But I'm not sure I completely trust him yet, though I hadn't expected for him to come this far in the first place. I may even consider him a friend. You should see him right now; he's absolutely dumbfounded by your patronus. He looks like a third-year on his first visit to Honeydukes. I wonder why that is..._

 _Anyway, I hope all is well at Hogwarts. Send my love to Neville and make sure Seamus isn't giving you any more trouble, that git._

 _Love, Hermione_

The golden-haired girl slipped the letter into an envelope, sealed it, and labeled it. She then stuck her head out the window and called for Pig. He swooped into the library and landed on the windowsill. Hermione placed the letter in his beak as the horse beside her evaporated into thin air. She heard gasp at the disappearance of the patronus.

Hermione let a soft giggle escape her lips. She then extended her wand, summoned a happy memory in her mind, and chanted "Expecto patronum." A wispy otter came shooting out of her wand. Aiden gasped again, wonderstruck at the sight. The otter swam a lap around the library and then out the window, Pig flapping his wings in tow. The witch and the wizard then stood side by side, watching the otter and the owl fly into the night, disappearing with the light on the horizon.

"I didn't know you could do that," Aiden said.

"Harry taught me."

There was a moment of silence, and then Aiden filled it. "So your patronus is an otter."

Hermione chuckled. "I was surprised myself when I first conjured it." She turned toward the pale boy. "What is yours?"

Aiden's eyes narrowed and he looked down. "I don't know."

"So you've never-"

"I've never learned the Patronus Charm."

Hermione raised both of her eyebrows in shock. She could see that he was a little embarrassed. So that was why the horse and the otter enchanted him; he had never seen anything like them before.

It was silence once more, but Hermione ended it this time. "Well, I could teach you if you wanted."

Aiden looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Really?"

"Of course!"

They moved away from the window and to the middle of the library where they had more space. "Now, you know the incantation?" Hermione asked, with an air of a professor.

"Expecto patronum," Aiden answered.

"Yes, but that's the easy part. The hard part will be coming up with a memory."

"A memory?"

"A _happy_ memory. This charm is used mainly to defend against Dementors. Since Dementors feed off of positive emotions, they leave people in darkness, making them relive their worst memories. A patronus is a sort of positive force that repels them, so the only way to conjure it is to think of a positive memory."

Hermione then realized that maybe the reason why Aiden never learned the charm was because he never needed to. Dementors were on the side of the Dark Lord so Aiden wouldn't have worried about them when he was a Death Eater.

"That's it?" Aiden asked, looking nervous.

"That's it!" Hermione repeated. "But it's much more difficult than it sounds. The memory has to be powerful; it has to fill you up."

She then proceeded to demonstrate. She planted her feet and closed her eyes to summon a memory. She pictured that morning in the Hospital Wing _... Harry walking in through the doors... Hermione crying as she wrapped her arms around her best friend...seeing him for the first time in what seemed like an eternity..._

Hermione's pointed her wand. "Expecto patronum." An otter came flying out of her wand, floating in midair and circling the people in the room.

"Okay, you try."

She saw Aiden swallow and then plant his feet the way she did. He exhaled deeply and shut his eyes. She observed the way his eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his face wince. He raised his wand. "Expecto patronum." A thin wisp of light sputtered out of it and then vanished.

Aiden moaned in frustration.

"It's alright! I didn't expect you to get it the first time," Hermione coaxed. "If I may ask, what was your memory?"

He clenched his jaw. "There wasn't one."

"What do you mean?" she said lowly.

Aiden paused and then glared at the rug. "You said that I need a happy memory to produce a patronus. I don't have one."

Hermione's voice caught in her throat. She did not know how to respond. She fixed her gaze upon him, watching him glower at the ground, looking dispirited. This man... this _boy_... didn't have one happy memory to pull from? _Not one thing?_ What could have he gone through so that it completely erased any trace of happiness in his life? What demons lurked behind his gray eyes, consuming him from the inside? Hermione then had a sudden desire to learn this boy, demons and all. She wanted to understand everything. His thoughts, passions, ambitions. She wanted to _help_ him. She couldn't change him because she learned from before that you can't change anyone; they did that themselves. But maybe she could inspire him or just _be there_ for him.

Hermione's heart rapidly filled with something that she couldn't quite place- something like compassion, tenderness, affection- and reached for his hand. She laced her fingers with his and simply looked at him. He slowly turned from the ground and to her and didn't say a thing. For the moments they silently stood there, she hoped to Merlin that she communicated to him what she wanted to just by staring into his eyes.

Aiden then let his eyelids fall and stretched out his wand. "Expecto patronum."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Hermione as she watched an animal burst forth from his wand. Aiden jumped, and let go of her hand to witness what he had produced. A fox was encircling the room, eventually joining Hermione's otter.

"I- I did it," Aiden remarked, apparently still shocked.

Hermione squealed with joy. "You did, you did!"

They watched the two animals play with each other as they flew around the room. Eventually, Hermione asked, "What was the memory?"

Aiden looked down at her with a crooked smile. "Not telling."

"What?!" Hermione was taken aback. "Why not?!"

"You'll figure it out soon enough."

Hermione smirked and then turned back to their patronuses. They stayed like that for awhile, merely watching the otter and the fox sail together throughout the library. But Hermione swore that from the corner of her eye, she could see that Aiden wasn't looking at the animals. He was looking at _her._

 **A/N: So what do you think about Draco's patronus being a fox? There was no accepted** **headcanon for it that I could find so I just made it up. Do you think it suits him? R/R :)**


	15. He Changes Her Too

**A/N: I really do wish I came up with the monologue of "he changes her too", but alas, I did not. I've never seen Vampire Diaries but I know that that line of dialogue is from it. I need to give credit where it is due. And a quick disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries nor _A New Leaf_**

 **Please enjoy :)**

Draco was both disappointed and grateful that the walk to Hermione's room took less than a minute; he _did_ wish to have more time with her, but he wanted to hide his flushed cheeks and stupid grin as fast as possible. As soon as the brown-eyed witch closed her door, Draco darted to his room and practically slammed the door. He leaned back against it and he dragged himself down to the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him. He looked down at his palm. He could still feel the buzzing in his hand from when Hermione gently held it.

Draco closed his eyes, trying to relive it. Something close to electricity shocked his skin when she intertwined her fingers with his. At first, he thought that she only did this out of pity; she felt bad for the poor, ugly, Ex-Death Eater because he didn't have the grandest time growing up. But he could see in Hermione's face, not something demeaning, but something that filled Draco up; genuine care, tenderness, and (dare he say?) _love_. Could Hermione actually love him or, at this point, be starting to?

All that Draco knew was that he was slowly beginning to fall himself. He wasn't ready to say it out loud yet, but that night, he was pushed much closer to the edge. He smiled, recalling the memory that he used to summon his patronus. Draco didn't reveal it Hermione, but he knew that it was fairly obvious that it was about her. But the memory wasn't a specific moment... It was all the big moments in one. When Draco spoke the incantation, he was simply thinking about _her._ The way she danced about through Hogsmeade, her scrunched up nose when she laughed, the relentless and fiery spirit she possessed, and the never-ending loyalty she had for her loved ones. Hermione as a whole made Draco unspeakably happy, which was powerful enough to conjure up his spectral fox of a patronus.

The pale boy stood up and slouched over to his desk. He had already written Hermione's letter for that day, but he wanted to add a passage about that night. Draco sat down and dipped his quill in ink. He held the tip of it to the parchment, but then his mind went blank. What he _wanted_ to write was how she made him feel. He made himself blush just by thinking about it; how time seemed to stop with her, and how there seemed to be no beginning nor ending. How the Earth around him could've been burning into oblivion but it wouldn't matter because he was with her. She made him feel nervous but at the same time like he actually _mattered_. Like he had a chance to be better.

He meant to write this all on the parchment, but after minutes of thinking, he scratched down:

 _P.S.: You taught me how to summon a patronus tonight. I'm now much closer to the edge. And yes, my memory had to do with you._

Satisfied, Draco flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling until he slept.

The rest of the week blurred past them. Draco noticed Hermione becoming slightly tense as the days progressed. No Jack Russell Terrier nor stag flew into Hermione's room the night Draco learned to produce his own animal. Hedwig did not drop a letter from Harry and Ron on her desk and hadn't for the rest of the week. Draco could tell that her effort in keeping a happy countenance increased as each day went by. He could only imagine what she must have been thinking. Images of her two best friends being captured, tortured, or even killed. Hedwig was well past her expected due date so what, in Merlin's name, was keeping them? There was a small hope they were simply being delayed and that the journey took longer than expected. Maybe they got caught up in a small side mission that did _not_ involve murderous Death Eaters. They would be late, but _safe._ Though of course, in times like these, assuming the worst was natural.

Hermione was slowly losing the color in her face and turning almost as pale as Draco. She hardly ate at meals and spent most of her time in her room making futile attempts to distract herself. Draco would sometimes peek at her through the crack in her door. He would see her sitting in the swing, an unopened book on her lap, staring out the window. These days the window in her room was always open, even while she slept, Hermione knowing that Harry's snowy owl could've been swooping in at any moment. Draco dared himself to go into her room and join her and comfort her. But he remembered the last time he entered her room without permission and how he almost got hexed. Even though things were different now, he assumed that Hermione preferred to be alone, and then stalked off to his own bedroom.

The first morning of the next week, everyone was in their usual positions. Isabella, William, and Hermione talked pleasantly. And Draco stared at Hermione, picking up on her forced expression of content.

"Alright. So today, we will begin the tutoring sessions again," William announced from his end of the table.

Hermione seemed to perk up at this statement. "What will we be studying?" she asked eagerly.

"Well, since there's no need to continue to study magical subjects what with your completion of the N.E.W.T.s, Aiden suggested that we do some Muggle subjects. Specifically literature."

She flipped her head around, her golden curls swooshing, toward Draco. She was beaming. " _You_ suggested it?"

Draco only nodded, smiling at the rejuvenated Hermione. This is what she needed now: School. Something to distract her from her fears.

"Go to the library and pick up one of the copies of _The Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald,_ " the tutor instructed. "Read _A New Leaf_ , and I will join you shortly."

Hermione couldn't have gotten up, ran to the library, and started reading faster. Before Draco could blink, the edges of her robes were being swept away and out of sight as she rounded out of the kitchen. He was about to follow, but he stopped abruptly. He turned to William and asked, "Why did you pick that one?"

" _I_ suggested it," Isabella answered suddenly, standing up to clear away the table.

Draco raised a quizzical brow. "Why?"

"Well, F. Scott Fitzgerald was Adam's favorite author and-"

"Adam?" Draco interrupted.

"Oh yes! I forgot to mention... the love of my life, the other man with the Unbeautify curse, is named Adam."

Draco raised both eyebrows and stared in silence.

The housekeeper continued while placing dishes into the sink. "Anyway, we read practically all of Fitzgerald's works together; _The Great Gatsby, This Side of Paradise, Tender is the Night,_ you name it. One day, we stumbled on _A New Leaf_ in a collection of short stories by him. And if I were to tell you the exact moment I started to fall in love with Adam, it would be when we read this story together. I really cannot tell you why because I don't know myself."

Isabella paused and leaned against the counter with a dreamy look on her face. "There was just something about it. Whatever I took away from it made me realize my feelings for him. Maybe Hermione will take away the same thing."

She turned back to the dishes and Draco turned back to the exit. He traveled slowly to the library in deep thought. So for Isabella, this short story was some sort of conduit for her to come to terms with the ways she felt about Adam. But how could anyone know if it would work on Hermione? It seemed quite ridiculous. It wasn't like the story was enchanted with some spell or the pages were laced love potion.

Draco was still puzzled as he entered. His eyes flickered to Hermione sitting on the loveseat, her own eyes were glued to the page. He grabbed the book from the table, assumed his usual position in the plush armchair, and began to read.

The story was quite sad. A woman named Julia had fallen in love with a man with a nasty reputation named Dick. He had a long history of alcoholism and scandals, but of course, this woman was enthralled with him. She ignored the warnings of her much more amiable friend, Phil, and pursued him. Julia and Dick then entered into a relationship and things were going well; Dick had stopped drinking and was prepared to marry Julia. However, Julia then learned that Dick had been with another woman while she was away. They broke it off as Julia watched Dick sail away on a trip to London. But Dick had died at sea and Julia was heartbroken. Phil was there for her, however, and they ended up getting married.

Draco closed the book feeling worse than he had felt before. How in the bloody hell did Isabella fall in love with Adam over _this_? It was well written of course, but the moral of the story hardly played in his favor; _don't fall for the bad boys or you will get hurt_ , and in this case, Draco was definitely "the bad boy". He was "Dick". And his stomach churned when he thought about who'd be Granger's "Phil". Weaselbee? Longbottom? Krum?

Draco winced at each name he listed in his head and then sighed. The list could go on for miles. And the list of the men that deserved Hermione went on even longer. The one person who deserved Granger the least was Draco, so how could he even expect for her to reciprocate his feelings?

He looked up at Hermione. The book was spread across her lap as she stared into space. He chuckled. She was obviously pondering what she just read. Was she thinking the same thing he was? Or perhaps she found something deeper that Draco obviously missed.

"What did you guys think?" William queried as he strolled into the library.

"Brilliant, but not the happiest ending," Draco mused as the blind man sat at the table.

"Well, some of the best love stories don't have a happy ending, Aiden."

Draco scowled at his hands. "At least she ended up with a good man."

"Correct. Julia would have a bright and secure future with Phil. He would protect her," William added.

The pale boy's scowl deepened. This tutoring session and this story were putting an enormous damper on things.

"So then," William continued. "If she ended up with Phil, why wasn't it a happy ending still?"

Hermione's voice rang out from the other side of the room instantly. "Because Julia didn't love him." She was sitting up, gazing intently at William.

"But Phil would have provided her everything she needed; shelter, fidelity, love, et cetera. He could have taken care of her. Dick couldn't ever," the tutor challenged.

She immediately rebutted. "You don't know that. None of us know that. We could obviously see that she _was_ able to help change him, even just a little. He kept his promise to her to stop drinking until it killed him in the end. And the fact remains that she was still deeply in love with Dick, and he loved her too." Hermione then snatched her book and flipped through its pages furiously. When she landed on a page, she spoke again in a booming voice. "She says to Phil, and right before their bloody wedding _: You'll understand the feeling I have and always will have about Dick, won't you, Phil? It wasn't just his good looks. I believed in him—and I was right in a way. He broke rather than bent; he was a ruined man, but not a bad man. In my heart I knew when I first looked at him._ "

Draco was grinning brightly at Hermione. Her passionate and argumentative words brought back memories of her in a Hogwarts classroom; her hand shooting to the sky before the professor could finish the question, her chest puffing out in complete confidence as she answered.

William was smiling now as well. "So let me ask you both this: if you were Julia, would you have followed Dick on that boat to London and given him a second chance? Or stayed with Phil?"

A thick silence followed the question. Draco turned his head to Hermione and he could see that she was waiting for him to answer. He delved into her chocolate eyes. Instead of thinking if _he_ were Julia, he was thinking if Hermione was Julia. If she was in that situation, he would have wanted her to stay behind with the man that couldn't hurt her. He would've wanted her to keep away from a time bomb like Dick... or in this case, _himself._ Draco did not want Hermione to end up with someone like him. He had already left over six years of torment on her, so he'd despise himself if he left any more.

Draco flicked his eyes away from Hermione's and glowered at the cushions of the loveseat she was on. "I would have stayed with Phil. He would provide her proper security and protection. No, she didn't love him, but he could at least undo some of the damage Dick had done."

Hermione made a sound of disgust like the crack of a whip. "Are you mad?!"

Draco looked at her incredulously. "No, I'm not ma-"

"Aiden! You honestly would rather spend the rest of your life in misery than take a chance on something that is _real?!_ Oh, but at least you'll be 'safe'!" Hermione hissed, making air quotes on the word: _safe._

Draco retorted sharply. "Yes! _At least you'll be safe!_ You wouldn't have to get hurt anymore!" Draco bit his lip. He had forgotten that they were discussing a fictional character and not Hermione. But he still meant every word.

He swallowed. "Julia _did_ change Dick, but at what cost? Her heart was broken and it was all for nothing in the end. A complete waste." Draco then lowered his voice. "Phil is good for her."

The words tasted like acid as they poured out of his mouth, but it needed to be said. Draco took everything in him to avoid Hermione's gaze. She stared at him in utter disbelief. She was fuming, her bottom lip slightly trembling.

Scoffing, she then shot up from her seat, clutching her book. "Aiden, you obviously don't see what I see. It _wasn't_ a waste. It's not just that she makes Dick a better person, and she _does_ but, he changes her too. He challenges her, surprises her, makes her question her life and beliefs. Phil is different. His love is pure and, yes, he will always be good for her. But Dick is either the best thing for her-"

"-Or the worst," Draco finished.

Hermione sighed with exasperation and flipped through her book again. When she found the page she wanted, she then sat down on the seat next to Draco. Leaning on the arm of his chair, she read, " _She saw him the first day on board, and then her heart sank into her shoes as she realized at last how much she wanted him. No matter what his past was, no matter what he had done. Which was not to say that she would ever let him know, but only that he moved her chemically more than anyone she had ever met, that all other men seemed pale beside him._ "

She looked up and spoke in a strained but determined voice. "How could you love something _that_ much and not take the risk?"

Draco and Hermione stared fixedly at each other. They both seemed to have lost track of where _A New Leaf_ ended and where real life began, but somehow the blurred line between fact and fiction made things clearer in the real world. Draco speculated that Hermione had found in the story what Isabella had in the past, and he prayed that it had the same effect. Something about the way that this girl now looked at him made him feel that it did.

It was a long time before they broke eye contact. And all the while, they didn't notice that William had gone out of the library, leaving them alone.

* * *

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I'm sorry for the late letter. We expected the small squadron of Death Eaters we are tailing to have arrived at their destination last week. Then again, we don't exactly know their destination, but Remus firmly believed that it was just another Death Eater checkpoint, possibly with a Horcrux._

 _They must know that we are trailing them. They keep to the outskirts of Muggle territories, knowing that we couldn't intercept them lest we attract the attention of Muggles. But any known checkpoints are far from where we are. It seems odd that they are going so far out of the way just so we can't ambush._

 _I know you are probably worried sick right now. But you shouldn't be. I have the best and brightest of the Order with me: Ron, the twins, and Tonks. It's a small group, but it had to be if we wanted to travel quickly and quietly._

 _I really wish I had Hedwig with me right now so I could send-_

Harry then immediately dropped his quill. He realized how barking it was to be writing Hermione at that moment with no way to get the letter to her. He glanced at the parchment on the stump he was writing on and beside it was his wand shining with Lumos cast.

Harry wadded up the letter and threw it into the trees with a grunt. What was the point? No one brought any owls with them and he couldn't even send his patronus since it would alert the Death Eaters of their location. He hoped that Hermione wasn't panicking, which she probably was. He wished that he could somehow send her words of comfort from afar but he knew of no magic that could assist him in this.

The dark haired boy leaned back against the stump and took off his glasses. He raised his sleeve to his eyes to try to wipe off the dirt and fatigue that was embedded in them. It usually wasn't that hard to stay awake during his watch. The ominous white noise of the woods coupled with the threat of the nearby Death Eaters was enough to keep anyone's eyes open. But Harry had a long day, and he was desperately craving sleep. He looked up at the night sky. He could make out the silhouettes of the treetops which were dotted with stars. The moon was shining bright enough to cast shadows onto the ground. Harry predicted that it was around 3 o'clock, near the end of his watch.

The tent rustled behind him and Harry instinctively grabbed his wand. He stood up as Ron sleepily stepped out from behind the canvas entrance. "Alright mate. Go get some sleep," the redhead yawned.

Harry did not need to be told twice. He stepped into the pitch black tent, trying to navigate himself to his cot. Being guided by the soft snores of Fred, George, and Tonks, he eventually bumped into the edge of it and collapsed. He was immediately asleep. But it only seemed like a few minutes before Ron came bursting into the tent. "Everyone, get up!" he shouted, turning on the lanterns hanging from the beam.

Harry sat up urgently as the rest of the tent moaned in annoyance.

"Oh, poor Ron. Did you hear a bear?" Fred asked sarcastically, stifling a yawn.

"No. But I heard Death Eaters."

Everyone went silent. Whatever exhaustion they were feeling beforehand had instantly evaporated.

Tonks stood up and folded her arms. "What do you mean you heard Death Eaters?"

"I heard footsteps coming from their campsite. It sounded like they were on the move."

"How do you know it wasn't a herd of deer or something?" George contested.

"I checked. I walked to their campsite and-"

"You did _what_?!" the twins exclaimed in unison.

Tonks joined in. "Ron, you could have been killed!"

The redhead put his hands up. "Well, I obviously wasn't! And besides, they weren't even there. The campsite was abandoned and I saw footsteps leading away from it."

The shape-shifter shook her head. "No, the Death Eaters wouldn't have been that sloppy. They would've covered their tracks."

"Unless they _wanted_ us to follow them," Harry finally spoke up.

Everyone turned their heads to Harry. They were all standing now, and looking down at him as he sat on his cot. They reminded Harry of the Wizengamot when he was on trial.

"Why?" Ron eventually asked.

"Don't know. But it is a possibility."

Fred raised his eyebrows. "It could be a trap."

"Not if we already know about it," Harry countered.

"So you're saying we should just waltz right into it?" George asked accusingly. He reminded Harry of Fudge in that moment.

"Well, we shouldn't just ignore it!" Harry retorted, throwing his arms in the air. "It's loads better than just sitting here and not knowing where they are headed." He turned to Ron. "Where were the footprints headed?"

"The Muggle village."

"Then let's go." Harry started to pack up, throwing the items around his cot into his backpack. The other four looked at each other uncertainly, and then followed suit. Once everyone was all packed up, they headed outside. Harry flicked his wand, and the tent folded into itself until it became a piece of fabric that could fit into Harry's hand. He stuffed it into his backpack as Tonks took down the enchanted barrier around their camp.

The five of them took out their wands and simultaneously muttered, "Lumos" and a bright light emitted from the ends of each of their wands. "Ron, lead us to the campsite. Tonks, bring up the rear?" Harry ordered.

The witch nodded as she let the four other wizards start walking ahead of her, Ron being in the front. The group walked swiftly but quietly through the dark woods, looking to their left and right at any sounds of movement.

Ron then pointed ahead of him. "There!"

He began to run to the campsite as the rest followed him. When they arrived, the place was completely empty. "This is where we tracked them last."

"And they've only left recently," Tonks informed while crouching on the forest floor. She was hovering her wand just above the ground and small sparks were emitting from it. "There are fresh traces of a barrier. They've been gone for less than an hour."

"Here are the footprints," said Fred.

"They lead straight to Muggle territory," said George soon after.

The other three joined the twins, looking at the clear-as-day footprints that led out of the camp. There were four sets of prints that they could make out. "Let's get going," Harry said firmly.

He led the group as he followed the trail. They trekked through the woods with caution, only speaking when one of the prints slightly deviated from the main trail. Eventually, they were led to the precipice of a cliff. Harry peered over the edge and saw a valley, and within it laid a small Muggle village. He could see the sky clearer now, the moon making distinct shadows upon the rooftops of the town.

"This is where the trail ends," Ron observed.

Harry inhaled. "They must have gone into the village."

"How do you know, mate? I don't see any fires, screaming people, or the Dark Mark," George said, cocking his head toward the town.

"They wouldn't want to pillage a whole Muggle village. Not with only four Death Eaters," Tonks chimed in.

"They must be targeting someone specifically," Harry proposed.

"But who?" George asked.

Harry shrugged and stared down at the village. "Let's go find out. Everyone get out their brooms."

The group threw down their bags, which were all under Extension charms, and rummaged through them. Harry pulled out his Firebolt and zipped up his backpack. Mounting his broom, he called out, "Ready?"

"Ready," the other four responded.

Harry kicked his feet up and zoomed down the cliff and toward the village. The rest of the group followed him on their brooms, forming a "V" with Harry at the point. The cold and biting wind whipped around Harry as he flew. As they approached the village, he turned his head and shouted, "Look for anything suspicious."

The formation flew lower and slower, all of them scanning the Muggle houses. They were all pitch black. There was no doubt that they were all asleep at this hour. Harry's stomach lurched in fear, hoping that they would find some sign of the Death Eaters. He didn't want to think about what could happen if they lost them.

"Harry, look!" yelled Tonks, pointing toward the ground. Harry followed her gaze and saw it: a lone house glowing a soft yellow from the inside. He glided down toward it and landed on the driveway.

Once everyone else landed, Ron trotted over and mumbled to Harry, "Mate, how do we know that these Muggles aren't just staying up late watching television?"

"We don't," he uttered. "But we have to check."

The group stashed away their brooms in their bags and crept quietly to the front door. "Tonks, go to the window and see if there's anything."

She nodded and knelt down under the front window. She slowly raised her head and peered in through the glass. "Oh my God," she murmured, shaking. "They're all in there, and they've got two Muggles."

"What? Who?" Fred asked pressingly.

"I don't know. It's a man and a woman," Tonks whispered, her eyes filled with alarm as she looked through the window. "Two of the Death Eaters are holding the Muggles facing the front door." She tore her eyes away and faced the group. "They seem to be waiting for us."

Harry's heart jumped into his throat. Why did the Death Eaters go into a Muggle home just so they could meet up with their group? Yes, the Death Eaters would have leverage with the hostages but why this particular couple? He didn't know why, but a sick feeling was crawling up into his stomach.

"Right. We need to be careful about this so we should try to flank them," Harry said. "Tonks, are there are any other entry points that you can see?"

Tonks looked back through the window. "Yes, there is a side window and a back door."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Fred, George, go to the back door. Ron, you and me will go through the front. Tonks, go to the side window and give us the signal with red sparks," he ordered, pointing his wand up in the air. "At the sight of the sparks, we go in with our wands at the ready. But _don't cast anything._ "

The twins and the shapeshifter nodded and then hastened to their spots. Harry and Ron stood on the front steps, their wands outstretched in front of them. Suddenly, a red light burst in the sky and they barged into the house.

"It's about time," the Death Eater holding the man said maliciously. "We were about to kill 'em out of boredom."

Harry looked around. Everybody in the room had their wand out. Tonks and a woman Death Eater with shocking red hair had theirs aimed at each other. The twins brandished their wands at a tall, bald man. A short and scruffy man was holding the Muggle woman with his wand to her throat and the Death Eater that was talking seemed uncomfortably familiar to Harry.

"You were at Hogwarts!" Harry barked. "You tried to-"

"-Take the Mudblood yes. And speaking of her, can you guess who _these_ pieces of filth are?" The Death Eater kneed the man in front of him and then the woman kneeling on the ground beside the man.

Harry looked down at them. They were both middle-aged and sporting many cuts and bruises on their body. There must have been a struggle when the Death Eaters broke into their home. And the way that their faces and joints twitched painfully gave Harry the vile impression that they were put under the Cruciatus curse for Merlin knows how long.

As he looked into their faces, he realized that he had seen them before as well. He remembered them at Flourish and Blotts before his second year at Hogwarts and many times they were at Kings Cross with... Hermione.

Harry's eyes widened but Ron voiced the recognition. "The Grangers?" he croaked.

Tonks and the twins gasped in horror as the Death Eaters jeered. The man holding Hermione's father spoke. "Very good! Y'see the Mudblood is worth her weight in Galleons to the Dark Lord. He would pay an extremely generous price if she were brought to him alive. And imagine the glory he would pour onto the faithful servants that delivered her. So, after the debacle at Hogwarts, we knew that the Mudblood would go into hiding. And who would know better than dear Mum and Dad?!"

The Death Eater leered at his captives, and the Grangers shrank even lower into the carpet. "But, like all Muggles, they were worthless. They knew nothing of their precious daughter's location, and no amount Legilimency could pry it out of their tiny brains. So, we waited for you lot. We know that you know of the Mudblood's location." The Death Eater then slowly raised his wand, sneering at Harry like he was his prey. "And you are going to give it to us. Legilimens!"

At the blink of an eye, Harry cleared his head of all thoughts, emotions, and memories. Thank Merlin that he had the chance to master Occlumency before he left Hogwarts. He let his mind go blank, and he noticed the Death Eater's smile fade and his lips curling viciously. The muscles in his face were wincing desperately, Harry knowing that instead seeing Harry's thoughts, he was seeing nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Death Eater let go with a roar of frustration. Harry clutched his forehead, feeling like his brain was throbbing. He then saw the Death Eater point his wand at Ron.

"Don't even think about it!" Harry hissed. "I'm the only one that knows."

The Death Eater glared at him and lowered his wand. He exhaled deeply and then wrenched Mr. Granger's collar violently and stuck his wand back to his throat. "Fine. I can't take it from you but you _will_ give it to me. Or the Mudblood's precious parents will die."

The couple started to squirm in panic, but their captors held them back like dogs on a leash. Harry tried to appear calm, but he believed that if his heart was beating any faster, it would burst.

Ron looked back and forth from Harry to Hermione's parents frantically. Tonks looked desperate to help, but the woman with the scarlet hair was still keeping her back. The other Death Eater in the room, however, was staring with fixation at the scene. He seemed to have completely forgotten about Fred and George behind him.

Harry looked at the twins, and their wands were aimed at the two Death Eaters holding the Grangers.

"Alright, Potter," the man holding Hermione's father spoke. "Time's u-"

Harry nodded at Fred and George. "Petrificus totalus!" the twins shouted in unison. The Death Eaters holding the Grangers immediately froze like statues and fell backward.

In an instant, streaks of colored light were being hurled across the room. Harry dove for the Grangers and kicked away the wands of the Death Eaters on the ground as the others dueled with the other two Death Eaters. He then guided the couple to another room.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked them, immediately healing any small wounds they had on them.

"We're- we're fine," Hermione's mother murmured.

"Where's our daughter?"her husband asked.

"She's safe." Harry was inspecting some deep gashes on their faces and arms caused by dark magic. They were still twitching, feeling the aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse. Harry's pulse quickened as he saw both of their eyes lulling to the back of their heads and back."We need to get you to St. Mungo's."

Harry stood up and rushed back to the living room.

"Stupefy!" Ron, Tonks, and the twins chanted as red light streaked from their wands across the room, hitting the bald man in the chest. He then fell over, stunned.

"We got them all," announced Ron with relief.

"Get their wands," Tonks said.

They collected the stranded wands interspersed around the carpet and stashed them away.

Harry then began to give orders. "We need to get as many members of the Order here as we can and as fast as possible. Tonks, go to Headquarters and bring them here. Hopefully, you will get here before the Daily Prophet does." Tonks nodded and with a _pop_ , Apparated away.

Harry turned to the twins. "Fred, George, stay here and make sure the Death Eaters stay stunned. And if any other Muggles come out due to the noise, make sure they stay away from this house. If you absolutely need to, Obliviate them."

Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and led him away. "Ron, you and me need to take the Grangers to St. Mungo's. I don't want to risk Apparition with their injuries so we need to fly there."

"Harry, how bad are they?" Ron asked, his face contorted in worry.

"Let's just say that we need to get them there by yesterday."

The two wizards then ran into the side room and lifted the couple up by their arms and then practically dragged them outside. Harry and Ron got out their brooms and instructed the Grangers to get on behind them. Once Hermione's mother was settled behind Ron, holding fast to his shoulders, they took off.

Harry and Ron were flying their brooms as fast and as careful as they could. The whole time, Harry was muttering, "Stay alive, stay alive, stay alive..." to himself. His only comfort was the ragged breath of Hermione's father in his ear, indicating his consciousness.

The two wizards then landed in front of what looked like an abandoned department store. Ron stuffed their brooms in their bags as Harry acted as a crutch for the Grangers. The redhead then carefully took hold of Mrs. Granger and then they all entered the hospital through the window of Purge and Dowse. They were immediately bombarded with Healers.

"What happened?" one frantically asked.

"Cruciatus," Harry took a breath, "and whatever other spells used to torture them. Death Eater attack. They're Muggles."

The Healer then started to issue commands. "Okay let's get some gurneys in here. We're taking them to level four."

The couple was gently placed on separate levitating gurneys. Nurses were pouring multicolor concoctions into their mouths as the gurneys started to move. Healers were surrounding them, forming a guard as they glided down the hallway. Harry and Ron stood side by side, watching the large mass of lime green get smaller and smaller as it moved farther away.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"We need to tell Hermione."

"I know."

They watched the mass disappear around a corner.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"How are we going to do it?"

Harry paused, his heart plummeting to the pit of his stomach.

"I don't know, Ron."


	16. The Armor Falls

Hermione cocooned herself in the swing. Her legs were bent as she held her knees to her chest and rested her chin upon them. Although her eyes were closed, she knew the sun was coming up; the soft morning heat was illuminating her face, and she was beginning to see red replacing darkness from behind her eyelids. A soft breeze swept through her open window and cascaded itself against her. Shivering, she finally opened her eyes.

She didn't wake up, though, for she never slept that night. It was another long and restless night of waiting. Waiting for a certain ghostly stag and dog but also a certain very much alive snowy owl. But again, the animals did not arrive. Hermione was almost used to the disappointment, but that didn't stop the waves of distress that came every morning with the sunrise. It was another twenty-four hours without hearing from her two best friends. Another twenty-four hours of not knowing. Possibly, another twenty-four hours of whatever life-threatening danger Harry and Ron were in.

The familiar churning came once again into Hermione's stomach, and she was panic-stricken. She looked around to find a distraction and her eyes fell upon her copy of _The Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald_ beside her on the hammock. The paperback book had creases in its spine from Hermione clutching the book open with an iron grip and flipping through the pages furiously. She had read through it entirely the night before as a means to divert her attention and ease her anxiety. She had also dog-tagged the pages of _A New Leaf._ Hermione had reread through the short story a number of times from her time in the swing and, for a reason she could not give, she kept picturing herself as Julia and Aiden as Dick.

She blushed and scolded herself every time she did it, horrified at the thought of Aiden finding out, but she did it anyway. It was probably because of the row they had in the library. Hermione was surprised at how she argued with him, fervently fighting for Julia's love for Dick. She believed that she should've stayed with him. He was the one she truly loved anyway, and he was slowly redeeming himself. True, their relationship would have their ups and downs. The future was secure with Phil, and that was something that Dick would lack. Julia might have gotten hurt many more times if she stayed with him. Hermione could see why Aiden preferred Julia to stay with Phil, but she was angry that he refused to see the actual love she had for Dick, despite his past. Aiden likely thought that Dick didn't deserve Julia.

And in that moment, it hit her like a stunning spell... maybe Aiden thought this way because he also thought he, _himself_ , didn't deserve the kind of love Julia had for Dick. Maybe he thought of himself as unredeemable; a lost cause. And Hermione thought that this was rubbish. She knew that Aiden had acquired redemption. He had left the Death Eaters and started to work for the Dumbledore. Plus, he gave up his life to protect Hermione. He was, however, quite rude and presumptuous when she first met him. She rolled her eyes at the memories of the lavish and soulless gifts he gave her. But then she remembered his last gifts: the Butterbeer, _Pride and Prejudice_ , and the library. It was apparent that he actually cared about her. His once rough attitude had grown soft and thoughtful.

Hermione wondered if she had anything to do with this change, but she already knew the answer. Of course she had something to with it... she had _everything_ to do with it. And now looking at it, Hermione wondered if he was changing her too? She recalled what she had said about Julia and Dick: _He changes her too. He challenges her, surprises her, makes her question her life and beliefs._ _He is either the best thing for her or the worst._ She stared down at her book. She thought about the ways Aiden could have been changing _her_ , and whether they were for the best or for the worst when an unfamiliar hoot came from the window.

She looked up and saw a barn owl that she had never seen before. It was holding a letter in its beak, and Hermione was hesitant to take it. She then turned around and saw a Jack Russell Terrier and stag lying down together on the rug. She let out a cry of relief. Hermione had somehow missed the patronuses flying through the window when she was lost in thought about Aiden.

Hermione immediately snatched the letter, noticing for a split second the St. Mungo's seal. She gasped slightly, worrying that they were hurt, and then ripped the envelope open. She held her breath as she read the letter, which was in Harry's writing.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I'm using a St. Mungo's owl since we are stuck here for awhile. Everyone is fine, but I need to tell you right now that your parents were attacked. They are alive and are being tended to right now, but you must know that they were put under the Cruciatus curse and other Dark offensive spells._

 _I did not want to hide this from you and I've decided to tell you everything exactly how it happened. They suffered much, and they were coming in and out of consciousness when Ron and I brought them here. They are right now at top priority here and are in good hands._

 _The Death Eaters we were tailing found them in their home and were holding them hostage until we arrived. They assumed that they would get your location from your parents, but they did not know. When we arrived, one of them attempted Legilimency to try to pry the information out of my mind. When that didn't work, they threatened to kill your parents if I didn't give them your location._

 _We were able to take them down and then bring your parents to St. Mungo's. Members of the Order arrived on the scene, but unfortunately, so did the Daily Prophet. No one from the Order gave a comment and they took all of the Death Eaters involved into custody at the Ministry and soon Azkaban. But one of the Muggle witnesses must have given an account of what happened to a Daily Prophet reporter disguised as a Muggle reporter before they were Obliviated. Reporters have arrived at St. Mungo's, hoping to talk to your parents or one of us. They even meant to talk to you, obviously expecting you to be here. No one gave a single comment, but they are still here awaiting your arrival._

 _I've written Dumbledore and he is allowing you to leave Grimmauld Place and come to St. Mungo's. I will also owl Aiden to let him know of the situation. Pack a small bag depending on how long you'll stay, and I will come get you tonight. I know you can Apparate here on your own but its Dumbledore's orders that I accompany you._

 _Will see you soon._

 _Love, Harry._

The letter descended to the ground as Hermione's hands and the rest of her body went limp. A sickening burn was growing in her chest which eventually made its way up her throat. She then slapped her hands to her mouth, her eyes shut, and muffled her screams.

* * *

Draco stared at the empty chair next to him. His plate was empty and platters of biscuits, sausage, and hashbrowns in the middle of the table were waiting to occupy it. But Draco refused to eat before Hermione arrived.

"Go on Draco," Isabella encouraged as she buttered up her biscuit. "She's probably sleeping in today."

"She never does that," Draco grunted, still staring at the chair.

William added, "There's a first for everything."

"No. There's something wrong." The pale boy stood up. "I'm going to check on her."

But before he could sprint out of the kitchen, a barn owl swooped into the kitchen and dropped a letter on the kitchen table.

Draco picked it up and examined the envelope. It was addressed to him. But from who? He looked closer and his pulse became ten times faster as he saw that it was from Harry Potter at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

* * *

Hermione was in the same position for two hours, weeping into her hands as her eyes became increasingly puffy and red. Tears had left streaks on her cheeks and her hair was disheveled. At times, she would bite down hard on her hand before she could let out a terrible shriek of agony and anger. She would then examine the slick bite marks near her thumb, the crescent craters of crimson contrasting with the porcelain skin surrounding them. And then her head would collapse into her hands again and she would cry once more.

How can one be furious, devastated, and terrified at the same time? Hermione managed to become absorbed in this state after she read the letter from Harry. Her parents were attacked. In their own home. And almost murdered. _My fault my fault my fault my fault my fault_ pulsated through her mind. Why didn't she just force her parents to take the magical wards? Why couldn't she convince them to move somewhere else where there was no Death Eater activity? And most of all, why didn't she see this coming? The sole reason she was in Grimmauld Place was because Death Eaters were on the hunt for her. Once they realized that they couldn't find her on their own, _of course_ they would've used her parents as a way to get the information. This attack was not on a whim. It was premeditated and planned out thoroughly for Merlin knows how long in advance. Days? Weeks? Months?

Either way, Hermione should have known that this would happen. She had been explicitly told that she was the second most wanted person by Voldemort. He would want to make an example out of her to show everyone what happens when Mudbloods act out and think that they can overcome the power of the Dark Lord. And many times had Hermione done just that. Countless Death Eaters had failed to kill her and there have been at least two planned out Death Eater operations to terminate her, and both had failed. So Voldemort would want to exercise every resource he had to silence the Mudblood that had escaped too many times. It was only a matter of time before the Death Eaters would get to her family.

Hermione then heard footsteps approaching from outside her door. She quickly wiped tears from her cheeks and tried to smooth down her hair. She knew she looked awful, but nevertheless she tried to make it less so. A gentle knock then came from the door. "Come in!" Hermione rasped out and then cleared her throat of sobs.

She watched the door open slowly as she made some last minute adjustments to fully conceal herself from how she was feeling. Aiden stood in the doorway grasping a letter in his right hand. Hermione's jaw clenched. He knew. And he probably expected her to be in here wailing, which she was a moment ago. But she refused to let him see her cry. She refused to let him see her so weak.

"Hi Aiden," she greeted, plastering on a feeble smile.

He closed the door and then said nothing as he stepped into the room. She watched his eyes linger on her and then fall to the floor. She followed his eyesight down and then saw the letter from Harry.

Hermione quickly stood up and placed herself in front of the fallen parchment. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked, her arms folded.

His eyes were back on her. Aiden had the same look on his face she had seen on Harry when he told her she would be staying at Grimmauld Place. It read of genuine concern, worry, and a little bit of anticipation- like he was waiting for her to say something. Waiting for her shout, scream, react. Waiting for her to _crack_. But she commanded herself to stay steady and stay concrete.

Aiden moved closer and said, "Are you okay?"

" _Fine_ ," she snapped. She then bit her tongue when she saw that he was taken aback. She wanted him to leave... but did she really?

Aiden exhaled. "I just wanted to check on you." His eyesight was fleeting from hers. He was about to leave...

But he surprised her. "Hermione, I want you to know that I won't stop you."

She stared at him hard. "I don't know what you're talking about." Denial. This was her comfort zone.

"Potter sent me this to let me know that Dumbledore is letting you go to them." Aiden held up the letter. "He seems to be under the impression that I'll keep you here and not let you go. But in fact, I _want_ you to go."

Hermione heard him choke up when he uttered the last sentence. Why? Was he afraid she wouldn't return? Afraid that he'd lose her? She softened fractionally at this thought, but she still spoke with rigidness. " _Still,_ I don't know what you're-"

"-Hermione," Aiden said broadly, which ceased Hermione's words. He continued. "Yes, you do."

He walked toward her. Her stomach began to scream and she felt the slightest amount of tears welling up from behind her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek to fight back.

"No, I don't," she retorted, looking down.

She closed her eyes and she felt his breath on her. His body heat was emanating off of him and she almost wanted to step into it and invite in the comforting warmth. But she knew that if she did this, she would break into pieces right in front of him.

All of a sudden, Aiden's hands grabbed both sides of her face and carefully maneuvered her to look up at him. Hermione's eyelids flew up, and she was staring into his striking gray irises, inches away from her. Memories thought forgotten of Draco Malfoy in the Head Boy and Girl office crashed over Hermione. Aiden's eyes were just like Malfoy's and she distinctly remembered the same look in his eyes when he almost kissed her. Right now, with Aiden, the exact same thing was happening. But this time, would she be kissed? And more importantly, would she kiss back?

The few moments where he held her in silence seemed to Hermione like a lifetime. She suddenly was feeling naked and almost jumped away to cover herself. But she remained locked in this position, gazing at Aiden and every so often looking down at his lips.

But he did not kiss her. Hermione was amazed at the fact that she was more disappointed than relieved. However, he still gently held her in this spot and whispered, "I know that you won't accept it. But I _am_ here for you. You don't have to pretend with me."

And that was it. Aiden had gotten through her defenses and her armor fell. She took a step back, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed once more. She asked herself why she was crying again. Why did what Aiden say cause everything to go to shite?

 _You don't have to pretend with me_.

And she realized that for the first time in a long time, she was being real. Every single day for the past year she had carried a dam inside herself. A dam that kept everything at bay. The War, Harry and Ron abandoning her, the constant danger her family was in, all pushed against this dam constantly and it never fell. There were some bad moments where the dam cracked and some water would spill through. But Hermione would only let this happen when she was by herself and she would quickly patch it up when she was with others. She would pretend that the dam was just fine and that it wasn't breaking.

But this facade had become increasingly more difficult to keep up. She was falling apart on the inside but she put in all her effort to make sure her smile wasn't. There were days where it took everything in her to get out of bed in the morning and she had to fake her way through breakfast. There were nights where Hermione would sob into her sleeve the moment Aiden said goodnight to her and she closed her door.

So why would she do this? Why would she do all this to make sure that she appeared okay in this midst of all this chaos? It was because she had to be strong. While the rest of the world was shattering, she had to be the beacon of hope for everyone else. Life needed to go on during the War and she was the one that needed show them how. People who were afraid would look to her for guidance, but who would _she_ look to for guidance when she was afraid?

But the thing was that she was _always_ afraid. Afraid for her family, her friends, _herself_. And now that she thought about it, she was afraid of vulnerability too... showing weakness and being raw and real... just like Draco Malfoy.

Dumbledore said that she made Malfoy feel vulnerable. With their "cycle", she was able to peel layers off him. Maybe now Aiden was doing the same thing to her.

Hermione let her head fall limp on his shoulder. She was full on crying now with no barrier to hide herself. Aiden gently laced her arms around his neck, and then he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'm so scared," she sobbed into the fabric of Aiden's robes.

"That's okay," he coaxed, caressing a hand through her hair.

"No, it's not."

Aiden didn't immediately respond, letting Hermione soak his robes with her tears. "Yes it is," he whispered.

Hermione then realized that Aiden _did_ challenge her, surprise her, and make her question her life and beliefs. And she knew for certain that, at least in those moments of pure vulnerability, he was the _best_ thing for her.

* * *

Draco held Hermione for the entire morning. A few hours passed and he helped her pack for the journey to St. Mungo's. It stung Draco every time he thought about it. Hermione was leaving him. And what if she didn't come back? What if he never saw her again? He desperately wanted to keep her here or even go with her. He just always wanted to have the knowledge that she was safe. And... he would miss her. Draco realized that he was much, much closer to the edge now. And any type of falling, even falling in love, came with fear. Draco feared that he wouldn't ever be able to love, and if he did, would Hermione reciprocate it?

The two of them sat on her bed and waited for Potter, her head resting on his shoulder. He was reminiscing the moment he had held her face in his hands. He could've kissed. He could've shown her the true depth of his feelings in that one action. But he refrained from doing it. He didn't want to take advantage of her in that moment of exposure. However, that didn't stop him from wondering if she would've let him.

A doorbell rang from downstairs at midnight and Hermione sat up. They both listened to the sound of Isabella opening the door and greeting Potter. They looked at each other. It was time to go.

Hermione slipped on her backpack and the two of them walked downstairs. There wasn't much of a goodbye; nothing was said and she simply waved, turned her back on him, and walked out with Potter. Draco almost pleaded to go with them. But he knew that it would be impossible. He heard the two of them descend the steps and then the _pop_ of their Apparition.

So now she was gone. And he had to wait for her return... or to _not_ return.

Draco turned away from the door with a disgruntled look on his face. He couldn't wait. Not again. He hated waiting for the infiltration of Hogwarts to happen, not knowing if he would ever see Hermione again after that, and now the same thing was happening. The uncertainty was killing him. If only he had more time...

 _Time_.

Draco looked up and realized that he too needed to pay someone a visit.

He ran outside and Apparated as well, but instead of St. Mungo's, he landed in an alleyway beside The Three Broomsticks. It was a long shot, but it was the same time of night she had come before. He walked out the alleyway and into the pub, keeping his head down so no one could see him. His eyes scanned the area for her. There were only about ten people in the pub, and he was hoping that one of those ten people was Millicent Bulstrode.

Eventually, Draco's eyes landed on a hooded figure in the corner of the pub. He walked closer, and the figure turned slightly toward him. He saw her face for a split second before she jumped at the sight of him and then attempted to leave. Draco smiled. This was definitely her.

He grabbed her arm and took her outside and into the alleyway. She was protesting, but not wholeheartedly; she knew that she couldn't escape.

"My, my, Millicent. What are you doing out of bed this late?" Draco asked in condescension, folding his arms.

"I could ask you the same thing," she answered, rubbing the spot on her arm where Draco dragged her. "What do you want now?"

"I need more time."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't do that."

"But I might have a shot if-"

" _Can't_! Sorry."

Draco took a deep breath, taking everything in him to keep himself from shouting. "Okay. I pissed you off, you wasted me. But there's got to be something you can do. And you didn't even give me a year!" He took a step forward. "Come on, help me!"

"I. Can't. Do. It," Millicent annunciated. "I should have made it clear that I gave you a school year..."

He threw his hands in the air, interrupting her. "A _school_ year?! Bloody hell!"

She continued. "You know what? I wouldn't give you more time if I could. You still don't think about anyone but yourself."

Draco pointed at her. "You're wrong! I _do_ think about other people. I think about Hermione and what her life is like, a woman who can't see the man she loves, and a man who can't see _period_!"

Millicent raised both of her eyebrows, and Draco was shocked to see her slightly... pleased. "So he cares now," she hummed.

Draco nodded and his eyes fell to the cobblestone ground beneath him. She couldn't give him any more time. But there must have been something that she could give, especially after only giving him nine months instead of twelve. Maybe not to _him_ , but the people who were with him from the beginning.

He exhaled. "Okay, I'll keep going until the end of June. But is there any part of the curse that could help William and Isabella? It's the least they deserve after being trapped in this hell with me."

"There is," she said lowly. "It's a sort of magical incentive that comes with the curse being broken. But it can only be cast if the person under the curse truly is asking this for selfless reasons."

"I am! All I want is for William to have his sight and for Isabella to see Adam again."

Millicent looked at Draco, seeming to examine him to see if he was being genuine. She then sighed and pulled out her wand. "Show me the tattoo."

He smiled and pulled up his sleeve on his left arm, exposing his tattoo. Some flowers were beginning to bloom on the tree. The witch pointed her wand at the center of the tree and muttered, "Parlayo."

The tree began to glow green and Draco felt tingling in his forearm. The glow soon began to fade and then it instantly disappeared.

Millicent put her wand away and started to walk out of the alley.

"Thank you!" Draco called out to her.

She turned around, wearing a small smile. "You're welcome. Good luck, Draco."

The witch left, and Draco Disapparated out of Hogsmeade.


	17. Lost and Found

"Harry Potter, you have no right to keep me here!"

Harry and Ron had escorted Hermione to her room in St. Mungo's and Harry told her that he would take her to see her parents in the morning. She protested, insisting on seeing them now, and tried to dart her way around him to only slam into his outstretched arm. He easily pulled her back and held her firmly in place.

He spoke in an almost bored tone as if he expected her to react this way. "Your parents need to rest."

"He's right, 'Mione," agreed Ron, leaning against the wall.

The witch shrugged out of Harry's grasp and stared daggers at the redhead. "Ronald Weasley! Are you really not going to help me?!"

"I saw for myself what happened to your mum and dad. They need all the sleep they can get."

Hermione wanted to keep arguing. She wanted to plant herself in front of her door and wail until she got what she wanted like a child would do. But she was drained in every sense of the word, and realized that she herself needed all the sleep she could get.

The door closed behind her and she slogged off to bed without another word. She curled herself up under the paper thin sheets and shut her eyes, commanding herself to sleep. She drifted off... and then...

 _...Her Mum's sobs and her Dad's moans pierce her..._

 _...She's standing next to them..._

 _...She reaches down and holds out her hand... to help them... to ease their agony..._

 _...But their cries intensify..._

 _"Please stop!" her mother begs._

 _"Who's doing this to you?" she demands._

 _... Her father looks past her... Her head follows his gaze..._

 _...A hooded figure in a Death Eater mask points its wand..._

"STOP!" Hermione shouted, being ripped back into consciousness. The covers and her hair were drenched in cold sweat and she could hear her blood pumping in her ears. She sat up, attempting to slow down her rapid breath and convince herself that it was just a dream.

After a few minutes, Hermione was able to bring her heart rate down and she gingerly laid back on the mattress to attempt to sleep again.

"It won't come back, it won't come back, it won't come back, it won't come back, it won't come back..." she chanted softly, cajoling herself until she slept...

 _...The sound that bursts from her parents' mouths makes her skin crawl..._

 _"STOP!" she shrieks._

 _...The awful sound continues..._

 _...She goes to move, but she is rooted in place..._

 _"Why are you doing this?!"she bawls at the Death Eater._

 _"Why are YOU doing this?!"_

 _...She turns...Her mother asked the question..._

 _"Mum-"_

 _"This is YOUR fault!" her father accuses._

 _...She reaches out... Their cries intensify again..._

 _...She withdraws and stares in horror at her hands..._

 _...Was SHE the one causing them pain?...How?...She just wants to protect them..._

 _...Tears sting her eyes..._

 _"What can I do?!"_

 _...Suddenly they're silent... They lay in the fetal position on the carpet... Helpless, Hopeless...And Merlin forbid, Lifeless?_

 _...She turns back to the Death Eater...It reaches up and removes the mask..._

 _...She is staring at herself..._

 _...It speaks in her voice... "We killed them."_

Hermione screamed. The blood-curdling noise echoed throughout her room, the hall, and all five floors of the hospital. It no doubt woke everyone up. But she didn't care. She just wanted it all to stop.

The lights came on and someone began to fervently shake her shoulders.

"Hermione. Hermione! HERMIONE!"

Once she recognized the familiar voice of Harry, she quieted down and began to weep into her pillow. The witch was closing her eyes and facing away from him, but he still sat on the bed behind her and soothingly rubbed her back.

"Get her a Sleeping Draught," she heard Harry command. She then listened to scattered voices scurrying out of the room. No doubt Healers came too; from the sound she was making, they probably expected to see Hermione writhing in unbearable pain.

The sound of the door clicking shut let her know that she was now alone with Harry. She began to speak hoarsely. "It was me. It was me. It was me..."

"Shhh..."

Her voice felt broken. "I killed them! I killed them! I killed them! I killed them..."

"No you didn't...Shhh..."

She, herself, felt broken as well. "My fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault..."

Hermione continued even after the door opened and a Healer handed him a potion in a small, purple vial. She let Harry turn her over on her back and she stopped talking. The witch cracked open her eyes and was blinded by the whiteness that filled the room. She shut them again, averting the agonizing bright light.

"Hermione I need you to take this Sleeping Draught."

The word "sleep" instantly made her stomach churn violently. "No, no, no I can't go back..."

"Shhh... Hermione..."

"...Please don't make me..." She reminded herself of a little girl groveling to her parent.

"You will not go back," Harry assured.

She stopped herself and let out a relieved whimper.

Harry spoke again in a calming voice. "Hermione, you know that a Sleeping Draught will give you instantaneous and dreamless sleep. If you drink this, you will be out like a light and the next thing you know will be me waking you up in the morning and taking you to see your very much alive, very much safe parents. I promise that you will not go back to that place when you sleep."

Hermione's eyes remained closed as she turned this over in her head. Her parents _were_ alive and she _didn't_ kill them. But of course she already knew this. How could she be so dense and forget?... Although, the dream was so real... so vivid. Even though it was over, she still had a horrendous feeling of guilt lurking in her stomach. Her mum and dad were living but she still felt responsible for their deaths. But why? Why did she see herself as the Death Eater in her nightmare? Why did she see herself as a murderer?

Not wanting to relive the dream, she opened her mouth to drink the Sleeping Draught. She felt Harry cradle her head gently as he tipped the small vial over her lips. Hermione again reminded herself of an infant, for she had to be fed by a capable adult because she didn't have the ability to do it herself. She loathed appearing so weak in front of everyone, especially Harry. But there were times where she just didn't want to face the world by herself. And as much as she hated it, there were times where she just needed to be carried. This was one of those times.

She swallowed the potion, and before she could thank Harry, she was unconscious.

* * *

Draco could feel William scrutinizing him from across his bedroom. Even though the man was blind, he still had an accusatory look spread across his face.

"So, where are you going again?"

Draco rolled his eyes, folding and packing clothes into his trunk on the bed. "I already told you; I'm visiting someone."

"And who would that someone be?"

The boy looked up at his tutor. He was sitting on his desk chair like it was a throne, and he held his cane in front of him like a scepter. William reminded Draco of his father in that moment with his imperious demeanor and arched eyebrow. The thought made Draco sick so he quickly returned to his trunk, not answering his question.

William cleared his throat. "Again, who would-"

" _Again,_ like I told you, it's none of your business," Draco barked, slamming his trunk closed.

Isabella then sauntered in at the noise. "What's with the ruckus?"

William made a sound of relief, probably at the presence of another adult figure to interrogate Draco, and stood up. "Ah, Isabella!" He walked over to her. "Draco here is taking an impromptu journey."

Her head snapped toward him. " _What_ are you doing?!"

Draco scoffed in annoyance. He did not need Isabella now to act like an overbearing parent. "I'm just going to visit-"

"Not Hermione, I hope!"

"Of course not Hermione! Do you think I'm that daft to go waltzing into St. Mungo's looking like this?"

"No! But where else would you go?"

Draco bit his bottom lip. He didn't know exactly how to deflect that question, let alone answer it. The truth might shock them and even though they couldn't stop him, they would be even more unwilling to let him go. Draco just figured that with Hermione gone, he would be doing no good just sitting on his arse in this God-forsaken place. He thought that he should go out and set something right.

Staring at the floorboards, he answered, "Let's just say I need to give and receive some clarity."

He was surprised that they didn't automatically laugh at such a vague statement. And he was even more surprised that, after a few moments, Isabella had a slight look of understanding.

"Just to be clear. You _are_ going to a safe-house?" she asked.

Draco looked up and nodded slowly, puzzled at how she came to that conclusion.

The housekeeper stared at him hard. After another few moments she simply said, "Okay."

William guffawed in astonishment. "Er, what?! Isabella, Dumbledore's ordered-"

"If Draco is visiting the person I think he is, _Dumbledore ordered_ that we let him go alone," she interrupted William, crossing her arms.

"But-"

She turned back to Draco, ignoring William. "When are you leaving?"

Draco raised his eyebrows, stunned that she somehow knew of his destination. "I'm leaving now," he replied with caution.

"How long will you be gone?"

"A few days. I'll owl you when I'm there."

"How will you get there?"

"Apparition."

Isabella nodded and then walked over and planted a motherly kiss on Draco's cheek. "Be safe." She then glided out of his bedroom.

He turned his gaze to William. He still had that condescending expression that made Draco think of his father. "So do I get to know where you're going?" he asked with a hint of irritation.

Draco shrugged. "Ask Isabella."

The tutor huffed, signaling Draco that he was giving up. "Alright, then. Good luck." He left the room.

Once Draco was alone in his bedroom, he went to his closet and changed into comfortable Muggle clothing. It was strange to him that he was dressing so casual for such an important visit, but with the state of things, it seemed appropriate. He slipped on dark jeans and a gray shirt, throwing on a dark green jacket on top. He then tied the laces of his brown boots and placed a beanie on his head. Draco smirked as he stared at his reflection. Despite his mutilated complexion, he looked... normal. The clothes were much less stifling than his usual opulent robes he had been wearing since birth. It was odd, yet gratifying to see himself in such humble attire. He wondered how _she_ would react to it.

Draco grabbed his trunk and wand and went outside, the noticeably warmer air tingling his skin. Time was thinning, but he knew that he had to spare some of it and spend that with _her_. It had been much too long.

He Apparated, and he landed on an island off the coast. He could hear waves cascading against the precipitous cliffs, the salty breeze filling his nose. It was twilight, and the sky formed a painting with a mixture of orange and pink. Draco turned and blinked at the setting sun. He raised his hand to his forehead to block the light, and he saw a silhouette of an unseemly house at the edge of the island. He had only been to this place once, and it looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen it.

Draco got a grip on his trunk and began to walk toward the house. The grass was thick, and it came up past his ankles. It felt like a hike to him and by the time he got to the door, the sun was gone and the only light he had was the moon. He raised his fist to knock, and then a surge of apprehension hit him square in the chest. Draco was just barely worrying about how she'd react to his clothes, completely forgetting about how she'd react to his bloody monstrous appearance. And, oh Merlin, he did not want to see the look on her face when he told her that he was falling in love with a Muggle-born.

But before he could convince himself to leave, he knocked three times. Draco took a sharp intake of breath and held it. He could hear footsteps approaching, unlocking of the door, the creak of the wood, an anxious greeting: "Who's there?"

Draco said nothing.

The door opened wider. A woman with white-blonde hair flowing down her back was holding out her wand. Her face was faded and worn by time, lines in her forehead and chin completely defined. Draco wasn't used to seeing her without make-up that masked her age. Crow's feet bordered her milky eyes, and yet he could still see bright blue protruding through.

Her eyes widened at Draco, but she did not attack. She continued to stare at him silently, with her wand pointed at him. Then, he saw her face soften.

"Draco?" she whispered.

He let out his breath. "Hello, Mother."

* * *

It wasn't Harry that woke Hermione up. Rather, it was the buzz of people talking as Harry shouted over them from the other side of her door. She sat up and looked at the door with confusion. Were there Healers outside? Members of the Order? The Ministry? Whoever it was, the bigger question was why they were arguing with her best friend right outside of her room. It must have been something about her.

Hermione figured that they would be a while so she went to the bathroom to clean up. She ached as she peeled off her clothing and stepped into the shower. She stood under the showerhead, letting the warm water fall onto her back, as she felt a blaring migraine seize her. The dream was coming back.

She really was grateful for the Sleeping Draught and that she was able to actually get sleep last night, but the potion was temporary. Images of murdering her own parents came flooding back without warning whilst leaving a painful pulse in her forehead. Hermione figured that yes, you can still have nightmares when you are awake. As much as she tried to rid her mind of it, she kept coming back and analyzing the dream. She was a killer. And her parents were terrified of her. Hermione couldn't help but feel like this had some truth in reality; with Hermione's bounty on her head, her parents were in constant danger. If not for her, they would be completely safe.

Along with the water, guilt began to wash over her again. Of course she felt like this attack was her fault. People would tell her that it wasn't and Hermione knew that they were wrong. Other people would tell her that there was nothing that she could've done and Hermione knew that this was also wrong. She felt like that she might as well have been the Death Eater holding them hostage with how much she put her mum and dad in peril.

 _...She turns back to the Death Eater...It reaches up and removes the mask..._

 _...She is staring at herself..._

 _...It speaks in her voice... "We killed them."_

Hermione let out a grunt and shut off the shower. She needed to stop. She could not face her parents like this. They could not know that this was how she felt because she knew that they would deny her guilt like everyone else would.

Hermione stepped out of the shower and grabbed her wand. She swished the wand around herself, making hot air emit from the tip. After twirling her wand around her golden locks, she was completely dry. Feeling immodest, she wrapped a towel around herself as she went to go look for some clothes. She blushed at how silly this was, seeing that she was completely alone, but the thought of walking around naked with only a door to separate her from Merlin knows how many people was too much.

She quickly got dressed and then sat on her bed, watching the door. She could still hear people's voices along with Harry's shouting. How long have they been at it? Hermione crept up to the wood and pressed her right ear to it, trying to pick up any words.

"Again, I am _not_ letting you, your cronies, or anyone ambush her!" Harry hissed forcefully.

Hermione's stomach plummeted when the voice of the notorious Rita Skeeter came through. "It's not an ambush! It's a search for the truth!"

There were many mutters of agreement. How many bloody people of the press were there?!

"Oh come on, Rita. You and I both know that is bullshite."

Gasps of horror at such colorful language echoed throughout. Hermione chuckled.

Harry continued. "You _never_ write the truth! You just write your own sick, twisted version of it! So there is no way in hell am I going to let you interview Hermione or even say a word to her."

"Are you not going to uphold the Freedom of the Press?!" she asked with indignation.

"This isn't bloody America! There is no written law for 'Freedom of the Press'. So why don't you take your 'Freedom of the Press', shove it up your arse, and leave!"

There were gasps again, and Hermione could hear the clicking of cameras. If the Daily Prophet wasn't going to get a story on her, they were definitely going to get a story about the legendary row between Rita Skeeter and Harry Potter. But Hermione knew that it would be twisted to how Harry, the unstable and over-pressured Chosen One, assaulted a poor reporter.

"Well, Miss. Granger will just have to stay in there all day and not see her parents at all because we are not leaving."

Murmurs of agreement came again and Harry did not have an answer for her. Harry knew that, in the end, the press didn't matter to Hermione. She would let them write what they want to write and say what they want to say. Anything just to see her mum and dad.

Hermione heard soft knocks on her door. She stood up and cracked the door open an inch. She saw bright flashes of light from behind Harry's face. He mouthed, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she murmured.

He gave her a look that said _Are you sure?_

She nodded.

He exhaled as Hermione opened her door wider. The flashes became brighter and people began to exclaim her name. Harry grabbed her hand and began to guide her through the throng of cameras and reporters. Hermione said nothing and tried to block out the noise as they both meandered through. Every once in a while, she picked up some of the questions being thrown at her left, right, and center.

"Was there anything you could've done to prevent this?"

"Do you feel like you should've been there?"

"Do you feel responsible?"

Hermione answered "yes" to all of these questions in her mind, but she refused to voice it.

She honed in on the back of Harry's head, attempting to ignore the relentless flashing that left spots in her vision. At one point, she just closed her eyes and let Harry lead her through the, what seemed like never-ending, forest of press. Finally, they reached the elevator. Harry and Hermione stepped inside as a group of Healers prevented anyone else from entering; the press was only allowed to be on the visitor's floor. Cries of protest rang through Hermione's ears until the elevator doors closed and it started to move down.

At once, Harry began to apologize. "Hermione, I'm so sorry! I've been arguing with that insufferable woman all morning, but I couldn't get her to leave."

"I know," Hermione responded, staring blankly at the steel elevator doors. "I heard you two having quite the row."

Harry breathed out a laugh as he ran a hand through his scraggly hair. "Yeah, that moment wasn't exactly my finest."

"You were brilliant," Hermione said, giving him a weak smile. She turned back to stare at the doors.

Harry gave her a curious look. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Yes," she lied.

He saw straight through it. "No. Something is up."

The witch turned and then gave Harry a look that he had seen many times before; a look that meant that she really did not want to talk about it.

There was a soft ding, and the doors opened to reveal the fourth floor of the hospital. Harry began to walk forward and Hermione followed him down the hallway. With every step she took, anxiety filled her. She was about to see her injured parents, no doubt marked up from the attack and dealing with possibly permanent effects. What she imagined made her wince. Were they still in pain? Were they damaged beyond repair?

She suddenly found herself in front of their door. Harry rapped his knuckles on it quietly and a young Healer clad in the normal lime-green robes cracked it open. She heard Harry mutter something to the Healer, and she looked from Harry to Hermione. The Healer gave a short nod and then stepped out of the room, followed by five more of them. Hermione was startled by the crowd pouring out into the hallway, trying to not imagine what terrible damage was done to her parents that required that many Healers tend to them.

Hermione's eyes flitted to Harry and he cocked his head toward the open door. She swallowed and slowly advanced through the threshold and into the shockingly white room. Once the door shut behind her, two black-and-blue figures called out her name. They were in separate beds and smiling toothily at her. Hermione tried to hide her cringe, for she could tell that their smiles were being forced through their pain. And of course, these dark spotted figures were her mum and dad.

She walked over and stood between them, getting a closer look at their bruises. They were completely covered in them and bandages that were wrapped were stained with a faint crimson. Hermione could see marks of various healing spells that sealed and mended their wounds. Every once in a while, their joints would twitch and they would try to make it seem normal. Trails of the torture curse still clung onto their bodies and it made Hermione's blood boil.

"Hi Mum. Hi Dad," she greeted softly. She bent down and hugged them, squeezing as gently as she could.

She pulled up a chair and sat down between their beds. They immediately began talking to her like it was afternoon tea back at their home in the suburbs. Her parents were pointing out trivial things like how nice they were treated at the hospital or how good the food tasted here or "Honey, I really like the look of those robes. We should get some for ourselves," or "The Weasleys have visited. Capital people!"

After about five minutes of nodding and one word agreements, she had enough. "Aren't you two even a little bit concerned about- "

Her mum didn't let her finish. "Hermione, our only concern is your safety. And now that you're here, there's nothing more to worry about."

"But you were hurt- "

Her father stopped her this time. "But we are alive and in good hands. And now that we know that it's the same case for you, life can't get much better."

"Are you barking?!" Hermione stood up angrily, knocking back the chair she was on. "You were _attacked!_ And it is almost certain that if we don't get you some protection this will happen again and you may not come out alive!"

"Hermione, you know that we don't want-" her mum began.

"I don't care! You will take the bloody wards and the bloody guards and you will not say a word! I will _not_ have you almost killed again!"

Hermione couldn't help but feel inappropriate as she screamed at her parents. She felt like a whiny child once again. She kept her eyes glued to the tile beneath her, but she could feel her parents' stare boring into her. They sat there in agonizing silence.

Finally, her father spoke. "You don't feel responsible for this, do you Hermione?"

She felt a lump in her throat.

"Honey?" her mother voiced.

"Of course I feel responsible!" Tears poured onto her cheeks. "This is all my fault! If Voldemort wasn't after me…" A sob escaped her throat. "Maybe if I wasn't your daughter…"

She fell back into the chair and hid her face in her hands, muffling her cries. And here she was again, becoming a child in front of her mum and dad…feeling very, very small.

Hermione could hear rustling on the bed and looked up to see her parents standing up.

"What are you doing?"

Her dad answered, "Being parents."

They crouched down to Hermione's level and enveloped her in their arms. She could hear their hitched breath from the pain that resulted in moving. It made her feel worse. Once they let go, they sat on the edge of their beds and held her hands.

"Don't you ever think that we wouldn't want you as a daughter. We are so proud of you. You are standing up to an almost indomitable force of tyranny and bigotry. You are empowering people like us and you; you make them feel like they can make a difference," her mum said.

"But because of that, you two are put at risk."

There was a small pause. And then her dad replied, "Hermione, do you know why your mother and I won't accept magical protection?"

"Because you're stubborn."

Her dad snickered. "Which must be something we get from you. And yes, stubbornness, but it's not only that. We don't want magical protection because we don't want to live life like there is a war going on. What Voldemort wants is destruction, chaos, and thus the power that he could take from that. If we maintain a state of normalcy, we are showing that his attempts at chaos don't faze us."

"Dad, that's just denial," Hermione scoffed.

He shrugged. "You call it denial. We call it hope. We want life to go on whether there is a war or not, and that depends on _us_ and not an evil madman."

The door opened and a mass of lime-green entered. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, time for your Sleeping Draughts," the young Healer announced.

"Oh! More anesthesia!" Hermione's mum remarked happily.

The golden-haired girl snorted into her palm.

The Healer looked dumbfounded. "Er, yes." She walked over and placed two vials on the table between the beds.

Hermione's parents slipped themselves back under the covers and grabbed their portion of the sleeping potion.

"We love you."

"See you soon."

They said their goodbyes and drank the potion. In the blink of an eye, they were fast asleep. Hermione observed them, thinking that they looked almost too tranquil. Their marked up bodies juxtaposed against their peaceful sleep almost made her laugh, but instead it sent a dull pain to her chest.

"Miss. Granger, we need you to- "

She turned to the Healer. "Can I just have one more moment with them, please?"

The young woman stared at her and then eventually left the room with a nod.

Hermione fixed her gaze on her parents, watching their stomachs rise and fall and listening to their even breathing. Again, they seemed so carefree in this moment. Hermione knew that the only time they could achieve "normalcy" was when they slept. When awake, they had to live with the constant danger that hung above their heads provided by their reckless daughter. Hermione wished desperately that she could give them that easy life. A life without Voldemort. A life without magic…

…And then she realized that she could. She could give them the chance to go somewhere else and escape from the sights of the Death Eaters. She could make them erase any fear for themselves and for their child. In fact, she could wipe herself completely from their lives. She could make them forget. And it all just required a simple charm…

Hermione steadily took out her wand, and pointed it at the two people she most cared about. If they wanted a normal life, she would give them a normal life.

"Reproba Memoria," she whispered.

She then exited the room, refusing to give another glance to her parents, and found Harry sitting in the empty tearoom on the fifth floor.

"How did it go?" he asked.

She ignored his question and said sternly, "Harry, I need you to do something."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"You need to tell the Healers that my parents aren't the Grangers anymore. Their names are Monica and Wendell Wilkins and they want to move to Australia. They do _not_ have a daughter named Hermione Jean."

* * *

 _GRANGERS ATTACKED. MUGGLES BEING TARGETED?_

 _Last week, parents of the famed Muggle-born witch Hermione Granger were attacked and held hostage in their home. The situation was quickly rectified; the Death Eaters involved were put into custody and the Grangers were taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. They were unable to give a comment and their daughter has said nothing on the matter. Could this incident be the inception of a new wave of Muggle attacks, in where they are specifically targeted, ordered by He-who-must-not-be-named? Should Muggle leaders be alarmed?_

Hermione's picture spread across the front page of The Daily Prophet was what made Draco snatch the paper and read the article. He didn't really pay attention to the words because his eyes kept flickering back up to her portrait. She had a vacant expression and her eyes looked hollow. No doubt she felt dreadful. But the complete lack of life in her face startled Draco and he longed to know what was going on inside her head.

He suddenly heard the door behind him open and the footsteps of his mother on the wooden porch. He threw the newspaper on the table beside him and resumed to rock himself in the chair.

"Morning," she sang, giving him a cup of tea.

He gratefully took it, feeling chilly from the morning breeze. "Thanks."

She sat down in the rocking chair beside him and joined him in watching the sun rise over the ocean. Draco inhaled the scent of the sea as he saw waves rippling across the dark water and the tall grass at the edge of the cliff. This safe-house had become familiar to him over the past week. He was feeling unusually relaxed now that he was staying with his mother, and the visit had been much better than he expected. He figured that Bellatrix must have contacted her when Draco was cursed because she didn't shriek in mortification when he arrived at her door. In fact, the first thing she did was fling herself into his arms and begin to cry. She then quickly led him into the house and got him settled. And then they had dinner together, talking for hours into the night.

It seemed so natural to Draco even though everything was different. She seemed like a whole other person. Her hair was thinner, her cheeks were sallower, she wore simple and worn Muggle clothing, and not to mention that the safe-house she was in was a stark contrast to the Malfoy Manor; the house was built out of splintered wood and everything inside it only had the bare bones to be considered furniture. And of course, there was no house-elf. His mother didn't complain, though. In fact, she seemed to quite enjoy the place. But Draco hated to imagine her loneliness here. She had been in this house all alone for a little less than a year, completely isolated from the outside world. So when he came, he only aimed to stay for no more than a couple of days. But the comforting presence of his mother kept him here for the rest of the week, knowing that she would feel inevitable remoteness when he was gone.

The Order treated her well, however. They sent her monthly provisions along with a daily owl with the Daily Prophet to give her at least some insight on what was going on. Draco felt a pang of shame at how much the Order gave to his family. Last year, it was his family's mortal enemy and now it was protecting and sustaining them. And it was all because he chickened out and didn't murder his Headmaster. Draco knew he didn't deserve it.

"So what has captured your attention in the paper this morning?" his mother suddenly asked.

He jumped and then scarlet flooded his cheeks. "Er, I don't know what you're talking about."

She smiled, still staring at the horizon. "You're never interested in the paper, Draco. But when I came outside this morning, you were bewitched by the front page. Let's see…" She put her cup on the table and grabbed the paper. Her eyes flew across the front. "…Muggle attacks? St. Mungo's? Ah! Granger…"

Draco saw her eyes come up from the edge of the newspaper. He looked away, feeling his cheeks becoming even hotter.

She grinned. "So, Draco. Why does _Granger_ lure you to the paper?"

"Er, it's a name I recognized. You know her."

"I know _of_ her. When Bellatrix wrote to me of your curse, she mentioned that you seemed quite protective of her when she told you of the planned infiltration on Hogwarts."

Draco felt sweat on the back of his neck. He kept staring at the ocean, trying to ignore his mother.

A few moments passed and then she mused, "She _is_ quite pretty."

"What of it?" he said bitterly.

"Draco, I know."

"Know _what_?"

"That you're falling in love with her."

Draco's jaw dropped as he whipped his head back to his mother. Surprisingly, she looked amused. "How do you know?"

"Well, your cousin, Nymphadora, was the one that delivered provisions to me last November. I asked her about you and she informed me that you were staying in a safe-house and that you gladly took in Hermione Granger. Since I know about your curse, I assumed that you were meaning for her to fall in love with you. And with how you were looking at her picture, I can tell that you are falling in love as well."

Draco looked at the ground and murmured, "Are you upset?"

His mother sighed and leaned back in her chair. "No. Not really. To be honest, my whole mentality of our kind being superior over half-bloods and Muggle-borns has completely changed. After what happened last year, it's hard not to be humbled. The Order of the Phoenix, which does consist of half-bloods and Muggle-borns, helped our family without a second thought. My monthly provisions have never been late and every member that has delivered them to me has been gracious. I've learned that the purest pureblood can fall from grace just as easily as a Muggle-born can be the greatest person that ever lived. Lineage or 'blood' does not matter."

She paused, and the corners of her mouth lifted. "Now as for Granger, I can already tell she is doing wonders on you. You are more cheerful, kind, and thoughtful." She then chuckled. "And I know that there is no way you could've developed those traits by yourself."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, do I have your blessing?" he asked sarcastically.

"I suppose so. But I have to at least meet the girl before you marry her."

The pale boy put his hands up. "Oi! Let's just get this curse broken first."

"Then what are you doing _here_?"

He looked at her incredulously. "What do you mean? You _want_ me to go?"

"I _want_ you to be happy! And it's obvious that you're happiest with Granger and not with an old hag like me- "

"Mother!"

She leaned forward. "Listen, Draco. I'm fine. I'm fine with the ocean being my only companion out here. I am elated that you came to visit me but you have to be with Granger. Especially now with her parents. She needs you."

Draco was floored by his mother. She not only accepted Hermione but was now encouraging him to go to her. He would, but then he remembered that she was still at St. Mungo's. "Well, I may not be able to see her for a long time. She may not even be coming back to Grimmauld Place."

"Does she care about you?"

He never really thought about it. Did she really care for him? He thought about the night he first revealed himself and how she didn't run away. He then remembered when he learned to produce a patronus and how she held his hand, looking at him with deep compassion. And at last, that day she found out about her parents being attacked. She let her walls down and she let herself be vulnerable just for a moment… just for him. The evidence was clear.

His stomach burned and his ears went red at these memories.

"Yes," he finally answered.

"Then she will be back. I guarantee it."

He gave a crooked smile. "Right. Then I should go pack." He meant to stand up but then he remembered something abruptly, which immediately eradicated the smile on his face. The thought was giving the urge to vomit but he had to ask her. She would be only one that knew the truth.

Draco gulped down the bile that was slithering up his throat. "Mother? What happened to Father?"

Her skin became a shade paler than it already was. She opened her mouth to answer many times but nothing came out. Narcissa Malfoy closed her eyes and exhaled deeply and then finally said, "There was a breakout in Azkaban back in December. It was the Dark Lord. He personally took out Lucius and brought him back to the Manor. And there, in front of everyone, he…" She faltered.

His mother didn't need to say it. Draco already knew what happened. He had assumed for the longest time, but now it was confirmed. Lucius Malfoy was executed by Lord Voldemort.


	18. Demons

Hermione prayed that the rest of the Order of the Phoenix would approve of her decision to put a False Memory charm on her parents like Harry and Ron did. Their acceptance made her breathe a little easier knowing that at least a few people accepted her actions. Harry called an emergency meeting for the Order using the Dumbledore's Army coin. Members would feel a burn in their pocket from the fake galleon, under the Protean charm, and know that they were being called to the Burrow for a meeting.

Harry went to go talk to the Healers as Hermione went to her room to pack. She snickered at herself, and thought that she shouldn't ever unpack at this point what with constantly changing where she stayed. After Harry and Hermione found Ron and told him, the trio Apparated to the Weasley's home. Molly was surprised to see them, and asked urgently what was going on.

"Mum, we'll tell you later," her son said dismissively.

"Why? This _is_ my home and I _am_ your mother so I have every right to know!" she snapped, pointing sharply at Ron.

Harry stepped in. "Mrs. Weasley, please. We want to wait for everyone to be here first. I promise everything will be explained once the meeting starts."

"Oh yes, the meeting!" she exclaimed, throwing up her arms. "Thanks, by the way, for the mere minutes warning in advance! Do you know how much I have to cook to feed the whole Order? I'm not a miracle worker!"

The fiery-haired woman then trudged her way into the kitchen.

"Do you want help?" Ron called out to his mother.

There was the booming sound of pots and pans being slammed onto the stove. "NO!" she yelled back.

The three then sat down in the living room in silence. Hermione was at the edge of her armchair, staring nervously at the front door. At any moment, members of the Order would come clambering in through and she had a bad feeling that once she announced that she altered her parents' memories, the meeting would become an interrogation.

A part of Hermione hoped that most of the Order would be on missions that made it so they couldn't attend. But the hope slowly diminished as groups of members made their way through the threshold. First, it was Arthur Weasley, nodding and smiling a greeting to them before joining his wife in the kitchen. Next, the twins appeared and sat with them and started to make conversation. Hermione then watched Charlie, Bill, Fleur, Remus, Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley all appear at once. It seemed like the living room was shrinking as members piled in, and Hermione felt it becoming increasingly stuffy.

Molly then came in and hushed her guests. Once everyone paid attention, she announced with exasperation, "Right, go get your breakfast."

An excited whoop emanated from the crowd and then they all made their way into the kitchen. There were mutters of gratitude to Molly as everyone sat down in front of a bountiful plate of food. Hermione took her place next to Harry near the end of the table and noticed the chair at the head was empty. She then realized that the one Order member she actually wished was there was absent.

"You weren't going to start without me, were you?"

The room turned to look at the entrance of the kitchen. Professor Dumbledore stood there in his travelling robes, his eyes twinkling. Everyone immediately stood up from their chair to welcome the leader of the Order.

"No, no don't stop on my account," he said kindly, sitting on the empty chair.

The members sat down again, at ease, and resumed their breakfast.

"What brings you here, Professor?" Arthur asked from across the table.

"A meeting was called, was it not? And of course, I couldn't miss Mrs. Weasley's cooking."

Molly blushed from the other side of the kitchen and nodded her thanks.

Hermione felt a little disappointed. Dumbledore _wasn't_ the member she was hoping for. Why wasn't he here?

"Professor, isn't Aiden a member of the Order of the Phoenix?" she asked the old man.

Harry and Ron looked at each other with an alert expression. She eyed her two friends in puzzlement.

Dumbledore then said methodically, "Technically, Aiden is not a member. He only works for me."

"But shouldn't he be? I mean, he's under orders from us."

"He's under orders from _me_ , not from the Order, to protect you."

"Well, I'm _here_ aren't I? If he's supposed to protect me, then he's doing no good if he's not with me."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "I suppose you are correct."

And that was all he had to say on the matter. Hermione turned to Harry, and he had a look of consternation on his face. He quickly tried to conceal it by turning back to his food when she looked at him. Her eyes narrowed at the dark-haired boy. He was obviously hiding something from her, and it was likely something about Aiden. But what could it be?

Changing the subject, Dumbledore asked, "So, Harry. What brings all of us here today?"

Harry glanced at Hermione and answered, "Well, that is for Hermione to say."

Hermione then realized that the room was completely still again. She looked out at the kitchen and everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to speak.

"Go on, Miss. Granger," Dumbledore assured.

She stood up and faced the room. Her mind went blank, and it took her half a minute to even begin a sentence. "So, you all know about the attack on my parents and-"

"Which was swiftly resolved," interrupted Moody.

Hermione was slightly taken aback. "Er, yes. But-"

"Zey were taken to Saint Mungo's, no?" Fleur now stated.

"Again, yes-"

Bill now interjected. "So they are safe now."

"Well, no! That's why-"

"Hermione, your parents are in good hands," Remus assured.

She couldn't retort; others in the room talked over her.

"So why are we here then?"

"Zis was pointless!"

The kitchen was soon abuzz with loud conversation. People were complaining about the senseless meeting while others resumed eating. Either way, no one paid any more attention to Hermione. Her attempts to speak were futile and she was feeling insignificant. She wished Aiden was there; he'd understand and listen to her.

If only she could make them understand. If only they could know why she did what she did. Maybe with clarification, the blow would be softened. And then the horrendous image of herself in a Death Eater mask slaughtering her parents came back to mind.

She could feel anger bubbling in her stomach. It began to rise up into her throat and she shouted, "I cast a False Memory charm on them!"

Sound evaporated from the room and Hermione felt naked as more than a dozen pair of eyes stared at her in shock. But she refused to let her embarrassment show. She had to speak her mind. "I did this because the Death Eaters will not stop coming after me and they will execute an even more calculated plan than last time to get to my parents. So, the False Memory charm has them believing that they are an ordinary married couple moving to Australia. They will be out of harm's way there."

"Miss. Granger," Moody started in a gruff voice. "You just said that Death Eaters will not stop coming after you. They will follow your parents around the globe if they have to and therefore risk the spread of Voldemort's influence and terror."

"Once they are in Australia, wards will surround their home and they will be given magical protection," Hermione responded seamlessly, feeling more powerful now.

Tonks now chimed in. "How are we going to get them out of St. Mungo's, let alone to Australia? They are still Muggles and now they have no knowledge of the magical world."

Harry countered this time. "I've talked with the Healers. They said that when the time comes for the Grangers to check out, which will be by the end of this week, they will be careful to dress in Muggle doctor attire and keep any magical item out of sight. When they reach the door, a member of the Order will then accompany them to their home to pack and then to Australia."

Arthur shot his arm straight up. "I'll gladly volunteer! I've always wanted to go on one of those large, metal birds."

"An Aeroplane?" Harry and Hermione said simultaneously.

The rest of the room looked at them, bewildered at the name of such an odd Muggle contraption, as they chuckled softly together.

"Back to zee task at 'and," Fleur hissed. "Where are zey going to leeve?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt broke his silence. "I have a summer home near Newcastle. It is out of the way and completely warded up. The Grangers should live comfortably there."

Hermione looked at the man with as much thankfulness as she could muster.

Dumbledore then spoke up. "Well then that settles it. The Grangers will be escorted to Australia by Mr. Weasley and they will take up refuge in Mr. Shacklebolt's summer home."

"Is the meeting adjourned?" asked Tonks.

"Since we are all gathered, I believe we should take this opportunity to get an update on the Horcrux hunt."

The atmosphere suddenly became tense as all heads turned toward Harry.

Harry cleared his throat and stood up. "Right, well we were able to acquire Hufflepuff's cup and destroy it. We believe another Horcrux is hidden in Hogwarts but we don't have any ideas on what it could be. And as for the locket, we still don't know who R.A.B is."

Ron then piped up from his chair. "So we have three Horcruxes destroyed; the diary, the ring, and the cup."

"We're gaining up on Voldemort. At this point, he'd have a lot more to worry about than hunting Hermione," Harry noted not-so-subtly.

The Headmaster next to her gave a heavy sigh. "Harry- "

"Please, Professor! We need her- "

Dumbledore stood up with a commanding countenance. "Will you all please excuse us?" He then ushered the trio outside of the kitchen and into the living room. He closed the door behind him and swished his wand around, putting a Muffliato charm on the rest of the Order in the kitchen.

He then calmly walked toward them. "Harry, we agreed that Hermione is to remain in hiding until the War ends," he said in a low voice.

"Professor, we would be making loads more progress with her," Ron disputed.

"Be that as it may, you two know that you are asking this for selfish reasons. You would like Miss. Granger to accompany you just because she is your friend."

"She's more than a friend! She's family!" Harry barked.

"If she meant that much to you, you wouldn't want her to leave the safety of Grimmauld Place."

Hermione watched the three of them argue as if she wasn't there. Their heated words grew into white noise as she wondered why she wasn't passionately fighting for her cause beside her friends. Four months ago, she would have jumped at any chance to go hunting for Horcruxes. But now, she seemed indifferent to the idea and staying at Grimmauld Place made… sense. And she didn't know why.

"Then let's ask Hermione what she thinks on the matter," Harry offered in a confident tone.

Hermione bit her lip as she looked at Harry. He fully believed that Hermione would go along with him and protest her imprisonment with an ex-Death Eater. His possible reaction to her truthfulness almost made Hermione lie and say that she insisted on hunting Horcruxes, but she refrained from it. "I agree with Dumbledore."

"What?!" Ron and Harry bellowed, their eyes bulging.

Dumbledore seemed surprised as well. "What is your reason, Miss. Granger?" he asked with suspicion hanging on his words.

"It's much too risky for me to leave now. I would be putting them in danger," she said. She left the other reason, whatever it was, unspoken.

She saw Ron and Harry looking at her like she just stabbed them in the back. It made her heart ache. She had to compromise. "So, I propose that when they destroy another Horcrux, it will be safe enough for me to go with them. If more than half of them are gone, surely Voldemort would be weak enough by then and, as Harry said before, he'd have a lot more to worry about than hunting me."

She then turned toward Dumbledore. "Is that acceptable, Professor?"

The old man exhaled deeply. "I suppose so."

"Thank you, Professor!"

He gave a short nod and then returned to the kitchen to adjourn the meeting. Hermione went to follow but Ron held her arm back. "My room. Now."

Harry and Ron stormed up the stairs as Hermione followed with trepidation behind them. She knew that they were going to ask for an explanation for her not wanting to go with them. Hermione was at a disadvantage because she didn't really know, herself. Possibilities of excuses raced through her mind when they reached Ron's bedroom. She sat on the bed as the boys closed the door and placed a Muffliato charm on everyone downstairs. They then towered over her and, once again, Hermione felt like she was on trial.

"What?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance, trying to act daft.

Ron crossed his arms. "Hermione, you know that you can't even act stupid if you tried."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Why did you side with Dumbledore?"

She sighed. "He _is_ the head of the Order-"

"Oh, come off it," Harry interrupted. "I saw for myself how you defied him not five months ago. You treated the idea of staying at Grimmauld Place like the plague and you would've come with us in a heartbeat. What's changed?"

Hermione knew that Harry was right and she knew that she couldn't deny it anymore. In a split second, she changed her tactic. "Honestly, I don't want you to get hurt because of me. If I'm with you, you will become even more of a target. Just look at my parents; I wasn't even _with_ them and they were still attacked. I don't want to be responsible for anyone else, especially you two, almost being killed."

She was telling the truth… well, half of it at least. The other half remained unknown to her but she hoped that it would be good enough for them.

Hermione felt relief as she saw them soften. She stood up and pulled them both in for a hug. "I love you," she whispered.

She felt their arms wrap around her back tightly. They stood there silently for a minute, and Hermione felt like they were eleven again without a care in the world.

"Okay, enough of this," Ron said with a chuckle as they pulled away. "I'm up for a little Quidditch. You two?"

Hermione immediately shook her head. "I think you know my answer, Ronald."

"Right. Harry?"

"I also think you know my answer, Ronald," Harry replied, imitating Hermione's tone of voice.

The redhead grinned.

"I'll go get others," he announced, bounding excitedly out of the room.

"You sure you don't want to?" Harry asked.

"Harry, you know that I can't fly a broom to save a life."

He gave her a smile and she returned it. But Hermione sensed a hint of skepticism lingering in his eyes. A creeping in her stomach told her that Harry probably knew that Hermione wasn't being entirely honest about her reason to stay in hiding. She felt an accusation coming on. But instead, he simply turned out of the room without another word.

Hermione ended up watching the match from a soft patch of grass in the clearing beside the burrow. It was the twins plus Charlie against Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Casting an Amplifying charm on her voice, she attempted to commentate the match.

"Harry has the… er… Quaffle. Wait! Now George… or is it Fred? … has it. And he shoots and Ron blocks it! Er, wait no. It went through."

"You're worse than Luna!" Ron hollered from his broom, feeling frustrated from his missed block.

"I'm no Lee Jordan but maybe you should focus on your keeping skills instead of my commentary!"

Everyone, except Ron, was laughing so hard that when Ginny hurtled the Quaffle through the other team's hoop, Charlie, acting as keeper, didn't even notice.

The game went on through the day and night, and it seemed like Summer at the Burrow again; sweltering but untroubled days spent playing and relaxing without the threat of Voldemort hanging in the atmosphere. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent the rest of the week at the Burrow and tried to steal away some time together before she had to return to St. Mungo's to see off her parents and the other two had to continue their suicide mission. They tried to cram in as many Quidditch matches, Exploding Snap games, and laughter filled meals as possible before Saturday evening arrived.

At nights, she would relive the terrible dream. She thought that she would've been numb to it by now, but it somehow incited a whole new level of fear every single time. Hermione would scream until Ginny shook her awake and the whole house came rushing into the girls' bedroom.

It got to the point where she would refuse to sleep, not wanting to disturb everyone but mostly because she didn't want to go back to that hell. She tried, but exhaustion would always win out in the end. But right before she'd drift into unconsciousness, a memory of Aiden would come. And then, no nightmare appeared. She would wake up feeling rejuvenated, but slightly taken aback that an image of Aiden repelled the dreams. As odd as it was, it worked.

On the last night, the Weasleys stood outside in the dusk lighting of the front garden and gave goodbyes to the three of them. They then walked forward until they were outside of the anti-Apparition zone and magical barrier. Ron gave Hermione a bear hug and stepped away with misty eyes.

"Meet you at the check point?" he asked Harry, speaking swiftly to mask the lump in his throat.

Before the dark-haired boy could answer, Ron Disapparated before his tears could spill.

Harry then took Hermione in his arms and held her tightly. During the embrace, Harry whispered, "It's about Aiden isn't it?"

She pulled away instantly and gazed at him with confusion. " _What's_ about Aiden?"

"Why you don't want to come with us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not."

The sun setting behind him cast shadows on his face, hiding his expression. But from his tone of voice, Hermione could tell that he was being serious. But why would he be so concerned about what she thinks about Aiden? He wasn't really expecting her to care for him… but what if she actually did? And how would Harry know?

She glowered at the ground.

He then took her face in his hands and placed a small kiss on her forehead. "It's alright," he said with a smile. Her ears were turning pink and she suddenly felt sheepish. It reminded her of when she was in grade school and her parents asked about a boy that she had a crush on.

Harry stepped back and took out his wand. "You _are_ still coming with us when we destroy the fourth Horcrux?"

"Of course," she cried out.

He smiled one last time and then Apparated with a "pop".

* * *

Lucius was buried at the other side of the island. His grave was not marked by a headstone nor a statue but by a bouquet of white roses. Draco accompanied his mother in placing the flowers and mourning him. She did this weekly.

The Order of the Phoenix managed to recover the body from the Malfoy Manor and return it to Narcissa. She insisted on burying the body herself and Draco winced at the thought of his mother digging her husband's grave, which they now stood in front of. Draco peered at her from the corner of his eye and noticed the stony look on her face. She could've been a statue. He wondered if he wasn't there then she would be weeping or talking as if the dead could listen. But she stood and stared at the roses, keeping whatever thoughts she had inside her mind.

Narcissa then gave a goodbye to her son and walked back to the house on the edge. Draco didn't leave though. He still felt like he hadn't finished something.

The pale boy stood awkwardly in front of the grave. He didn't exactly know how to mourn. Should he have been crying? Paying respects? Reciting a poem or whatever? It hadn't really hit him that Lucius was gone and killed by the very thing he made his family worship, no less. Draco hadn't ever really regarded his father as a father-figure. He was more of an overbearing and ever-present burden that hung over Draco's head. He did not go to his father for comfort or advice. He'd go to his father for approval, but he did not ever receive it. But this only pushed Draco harder; he trained harder in Quidditch, excelled in school, and he even bullied more Muggle-borns and mastered Dark Arts. Even then, his father's pride never came. To Draco, it was like a hunger or thirst that could never be satiated; Lucius always demanded more from his son.

So when he was tasked to kill his Headmaster, Draco felt like he could finally prove himself and receive what he deserved not only from the Dark Lord, but his father as well. But when Draco lowered his wand, all hell broke loose. His first thought was not the daunting fact that Voldemort would punish him, nor the reality that he had broken ties with half his family, nor that he had just lost everything. His first thought was worrying that his father would severely disapprove of him.

And that day, in front of his grave, Draco fell to his knees and howled in anger. He wasn't angry at Lucius…he was angry at himself. How could he let himself be controlled his entire life by someone like his father; a sniveling, cowardly, bigot. He believed that Muggles and so called "Mudbloods" were the scum of the Earth, when _he_ was the real scum. Draco looked up to him and wished to grow up to be like him. How could he have been so bloody naïve? Lucius was a monster and a murderer who blindly followed the darkest wizard of all time out of fear.

But Draco got what he desired, didn't he? He became exactly like his father, and that was why he had been cursed to resemble his inner self; a beast. Draco looked down at the white roses beginning to bloom on his arm and noticed how similar they were to the roses on Lucius' grave. He realized that his abominable appearance then reflected his father as a beast too... It takes one to know one.

"I HATE YOU!" Draco roared, ripping and throwing the flowers. "I will _never_ _again_ become like you! You can't control me anymore!"

Draco lost track of time but the sky was dark and glittering with stars. It felt like a cactus was clogging his throat by the time he left the grave. Though it was painful, Draco felt like he had finally confronted his father after seventeen long years. He had felt more liberated than he ever had before.

He Apparated back to Grimmauld Place with his trunk in hand and walked heavily inside. He was about to pass Hermione's library when a dark silhouette coming from inside caught his eye. It was sitting on the window seat, the moonlight illuminating its lines. It turned and faced him and Draco immediately recognized the glint in her eyes.

He spoke hoarsely. "Hermione?"

* * *

She held loosely onto the rusty chains on either side of her as she rocked herself on the swing set with gentle pushes of her feet. The derelict artifact of her childhood creaked slightly and she made sure to stop swinging every time movement increased from inside her house. She had to remain silent because, after all, to her parents she would be a stranger and, technically, she was trespassing. Hermione knew the risks. But she wanted to be with them till the very last moment. She just couldn't let them see her.

Moving her parents from St. Mungo's to their home was almost too quick and too painless that evening. They weren't overly suspicious and whatever answers they received from questions asked was accepted without any protest. They were told that they were both injured in a mountain biking accident and they suffered brain damage which resulted in minor cases of amnesia. Hermione believed that this story was too farfetched but luckily she made the Wilkinses extra gullible when she cast the False Memory charm.

What made Hermione worry was Arthur. He tended to get overly excited when he posed as a Muggle, and she hoped that he would act as normal as possible.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs…er… Wilkins," the red headed man started shakily. "I am taking you home to pack. I am your… er…Re-Al-Tor. Your current home has sold and I will be accompanying you to your new home in Australia."

Whatever doubt was on Hermione's parents' faces was instantly erased at the word "Australia". She observed the scene through the open door from a chair in the waiting room and breathed a sigh of relief as they slid themselves into the backseat of the car. Arthur closed their door and caught Hermione's eye, giving her a warm smile and a thumb's up. The redheaded man plopped himself into the front seat and then they drove off.

Hermione bolted up from her seat and sprinted outside. She watched the car grow smaller as it moved farther down the road. Soon, the car and her family were gone. Just like that.

And she should've left them alone. But she didn't.

So here she now was, sitting in the backyard of her old home watching the yellow lights gleam from the windows. Hermione just wanted to be the daughter of the Grangers for at least one minute more.

One by one, the lights flickered out and soon the house was in darkness, blending in with the world around it. She listened for the tumbling of baggage and the exclamations of excitement emanating from the front of the house. She wished she could see it. She wished she could see the true bliss on her parents' faces, ignorant to the dark reality that were escaping. Hermione then heard the groan of the car engine get fainter and fainter until all the noises that were left to hear were the sounds of the crickets. And soon, the sounds of Hermione's crying.

It felt like a fist was squeezing her heart. She was now an orphan. Her parents had no idea who she was and how much they meant to her. They had no idea that they had a child with the weight of the Muggle world and magical world on her shoulders. Hermione no longer had a mother and a father to go to for support. The charm was not permanent but it could be. Who knew how long this bloody War would last? It could take years before Voldemort would be defeated and what if he couldn't be defeated at all? He would take over the world... Australia….

Her head began pulsing in agony as it came back.

 _...Suddenly they're silent... They lay in the fetal position on the carpet... Helpless, Hopeless...And Merlin forbid, Lifeless?_

She fell from the swing and onto the grass.

 _...She turns back to the Death Eater...It reaches up and removes the mask..._

She curled herself up.

 _...She is staring at herself..._

The painful pulse branched out to the rest of her body.

 _...It speaks in her voice... "We killed them."_

And then…

… _She closed her eyes and she felt his breath on her. His body heat was emanating off of him and she almost wanted to step into it and invite in the comforting warmth. But she knew that if she did this, she would break into pieces right in front of him…._

… _All of a sudden, Aiden's hands grabbed both sides of her face and carefully maneuvered her to look up at him…_

The nightmare was gone.

 _"I know that you won't accept it. But I am here for you. You don't have to pretend with me."_

The pain was gone.

 _"I'm so scared," she sobbed into the fabric of Aiden's robes._

 _"That's okay," he coaxed, caressing a hand through her hair._

 _"No, it's not."_

 _Aiden didn't immediately respond, letting Hermione soak his robes with her tears. "Yes, it is," he whispered._

She opened her eyes.

Hermione then became aware of the fact that Aiden had become her Sleeping Draught; memories of him became a way of repelling the nightmare and making a way for her to escape it. And why him?...

But she knew. Aiden was the one who broke her walls. He was the only person to ever see her completely vulnerable and let her know that it was okay. He had come to know the demons that lurked inside of Hermione and he didn't flee at the sight of them... he _tamed_ them. Because of this, she felt the most _real_ with him.

Harry was right. Her unknown reason to stay at Grimmauld Place was because of Aiden. Not because he had ordered her to come back, but because she _wanted_ to. She _missed_ Aiden; he had become her temporary home and she needed to go back.

Hermione Apparated to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and then sprinted inside. She ran to Aiden's bedroom door and knocked furiously. When no answer came, she let herself in to only see an empty room. Embarrassed, she went to take refuge in the library. What was her plan if she saw him in there? Hug him? Give him a handshake? How was she supposed to communicate to him how much he meant to her without sounding desperate? Plus, she didn't really know what her feelings for him consisted of. It was more than friendship but did she love him?... Impossible. But it was a feeling that could only be described in color; burning red.

She heard a rustle. Her head turned and he was standing at the entrance to the library.

"Hermione?" he croaked.

"Hello," she said weakly.

Aiden walked in and sat with her on the window seat. The moonlight streaming in emphasized the sharp lines of his jaw and illuminated his tattoos. It was, admittedly, alluring to Hermione.

"How are your parents?"

She felt the fist tightening its grip in her chest. "They're safe but they're not my parents anymore. I placed a False Memory charm on them which will be broken when the War ends."

Her eyelids fell and they became a dam for the tears behind them, threatening to spill over. The library was silent, and Hermione felt the pressure of the room tightening and it was becoming difficult to breathe. The dream was coming back and then...

His hand fell onto hers and caressed it gently. Aiden said nothing, but his simple gesture somehow ushered away the nightmare. Her eyes flew open and her breath flowed easily through her again. It was phenomenal to Hermione at how effortlessly he soothed her.

She looked into his gray eyes and the fist inside her was letting go.

"What about you? Where did you go?" Hermione asked.

She saw his jaw clench. "Well, I visited my mother. She's doing well but I learned that my father was executed by Voldemort."

Hermione gasped.

She immediately scolded herself. Why did she react so bloody blatantly? Death was something she should have been used to by now and she was feeling childish. But how exactly did one comfort another who had lost someone? What could she offer as consolation?

Hesitatingly, she intertwined her fingers with his. "I am so sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be. He was an awful man and a loyal servant to the Dark Lord. I've promised myself to never become like him."

So here they were. Comparing battle scars. Hermione noticed that they weren't so different; both of them had lost family and now all that they had were each other. No wonder Aiden tamed her demons… his own demons played so well with hers.

After a few moments of silence, Aiden asked, "Why did you come back?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I told you that I wasn't going to make you stay."

"I wanted to."

"But you were free! You were out of this shitehole!"

Hermione was taken aback by his outburst. Did he _want_ her gone?

"Dumbledore's orders. But I would've come back even if I had the choice," she responded earnestly.

Aiden scoffed. "Why in the bloody hell would-"

"Because _you're_ here, you arse!"

He was struck dumb and he pierced her with his eyes. She once again found herself in a dilemma. Like with Draco Malfoy in the office and with Aiden himself in her room, she wondered if he would kiss her. And, if he kissed her, would she kiss back? He was so close to her that she could see more clearly the intricate designs of the tattoos in his face. They curled around his forehead, cheeks, chin, lips… He wasn't grotesque. He was beautiful.

She crashed her lips upon his. Her stomach was screaming and her pulse accelerating. Hermione felt exhilarated yet terrified that he'd pull away. The thought frightened her so she jumped the gun and broke the kiss.

"I am so sorry," she said, standing up. "Goodni-"

Her goodbye drowned in her throat as Aiden reconnected their lips, holding either side of her face firmly. They both stood in that position, shocked, for a few moments until they melted into each other. Hermione clutched her arms around Aiden's waist, feeling his back muscles ripple. He held her head in one hand, her golden curls falling like water around his fingers, as he cupped her face in the other. Aiden's warm and inviting lips left her silently begging for more. Hermione slightly parted her own, inviting him in. And suddenly the kiss became harder and deeper. She was losing herself and all sense of time and space but she didn't care; in that moment, as long Aiden was kissing her, it didn't matter if the world was crashing down around her or the sun was swallowing the earth.

Aiden had lit a fire in her that she didn't even know existed. Passion was burning throughout her body and, at least in that dark room with the moon as their only source of light, she needed him. She needed his sheltering presence and the assurance that even the thought of him shielded her from nightmares. A small part of her felt bashful, yearning to retreat back into herself. But her demons persisted and demanded to be satisfied.

Like a flash of lightning, Hermione became aware of her surroundings. She pulled away and caught her breath. But Aiden still held her close, their foreheads lightly pressing together.

"Stay with me?" she asked.

He smiled. "As you wish."

Once more, Aiden led Hermione to her room. But he did not leave to go to his own room.

Needless to say, the nightmare never arrived that night.


	19. Retreat

Holy Cow I'm sorry! It's been far too long since the last update! I thought I'd have time to write during college but I literally had none. But now, during this break between semesters, I'm hoping I can pump out a few chapters. Thank you to whomever is reading this... you keep me going.

Enjoy!

* * *

Hermione examined the tattoo of the forearm wrapped around her waist. It belonged to the sleeping Aiden behind her. She propped up her head on the pillow, tracing the lines of the flowers and tree, and cocked an eyebrow at it. It looked different before. The tree had once been covered in snow. But now it was bespeckled with flowers. Obviously, it had to do with the seasons but why?

She sighed and laid her head back down on the cushion. This kind of thinking was too much before dawn, even for Hermione. But her eyes flitted around the room to find something to distract herself from Aiden's inviting body heat and warm breath caressing her neck. If she didn't, she would want to stay in his arms all morning. He had been staying the night with her since the middle of March. Nothing ever happened between them physically, though. In fact, the most intimate they have ever gotten was when they kissed in the library. But from that point, Hermione deliberately avoided touching Aiden apart from sleeping with him at night to keep the nightmares at bay.

This thought made her stomach clench in guilt. Was she just using him? Should she be giving him more? Hermione immediately took back the ridiculous thought- Aiden had never pressured her for more this whole time. But she was grateful for this because the thought of becoming more intimate with Aiden was what made her arise before dawn and leave the bedroom before he could wake up these past few weeks. Nonetheless, when she woke up in this position- in Aiden's sheltering embrace- it became progressively harder to leave each morning. But a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach always let her know she had to.

Hermione carefully rolled off the bed and tiptoed to her wardrobe. She silently collected a towel and soap. Before she opened the door to leave, she turned and looked at the man asleep on her bed, his tattoos reflecting the early light from the sunrise. His arms were in the same position and she thought she could crawl right back in between them exactly as before. The sight gave her butterflies and she reminded herself that whatever she was afraid of was silly. He was the reason she came back to Grimmauld Place. He was the only one that could drive away the nightmares… the only one she could be open with.

Her heart leapt as she took a step forward. But suddenly a sense of fear overcame her. It eventually pushed her back through the door and down the hallway, once more leading her away from the man who inexplicably made her feel safe and terrified at the same time.

With every step, she scolded herself.

 _Stop being a baby!_

 _Don't be nervous!_

 _You're not a schoolgirl anymore!_

However, that's exactly what Aiden made her feel like…. a schoolgirl again, with big teeth and bushy hair, who gets the urge to vomit at the thought of talking to him.

* * *

Draco opened his eyes the moment the door closed. He had been conscious the entire time Hermione was scurrying out of the room, awakened by the shock of cold that came when she escaped the bed. He had been conscious for this moment every night since March. Draco wouldn't have been hurt by this if Hermione wasn't noticeably pushing him away. He saw how she avoided his gaze and his touch outside of this bedroom and even here she would coldly turn on her side and simply allow him to hold her. It was almost like this nighttime routine was merely a job or a burdensome task to Hermione, knowing that without it she would have a restless sleep. Draco couldn't help but feel used!

He turned onto his back with a frustrated grunt as he punched the mattress underneath him. Why was she doing this?! He thought that she had finally let her guard down and trusted him! Not to mention, _she_ kissed _him_ in the library.

Draco's pulse quickened at the memory. He brought his fingertips to his lips, trying to recall the taste of Hermione's. She kissed him like he was sustenance for her hunger and yet there was never enough. He knew that they both felt a burning desire for each other in that one moment of passion. So, what extinguished the flame and caused her to shut him out?

He looked down at the blooming roses on his forearm. It was April. He only had a few more months.

The pale boy huffed and peeled himself off the bed. He then trudged his way out of Hermione's bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. But suddenly a certain witch bounded out, drenched and sporting a towel, and accidentally slammed into Draco. She yelped from the impact and almost fell backward but he caught her wrist in time to pull her back.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry," Hermione said frantically, clutching onto her towel for dear life while regaining her balance.

Draco was slightly stunned, never seeing her like this before. Hermione's normal golden hair was a much darker shade and was plastered to her face. Traces of mascara smeared down her cheeks and spare water droplets dripped from her arms and down to the floorboards. And of course, the only thing covering her body was a thin piece of fabric. The sight was oddly endearing and Draco felt blood rush to his cheeks.

He cleared his throat loudly and looked down at the floor. "No, no _I'm_ sorry."

"I just stepped into the shower and realized that I had forgotten my clothes. I was heading back to the room to grab some."

"Hoping that I was still asleep?"

"Hoping that you were gone."

The small statement punched Draco in the gut as he realized that Hermione showering this early in the morning was just another escape route for her.

"I mean, which is mad to assume seeing how early it is," Hermione added, probably trying to amend the sharpness of her previous statement.

It was then silent except for the water splashing on the floor.

"You know," Draco began, still keeping his gaze on the ground, "you could've just worn what you had on the way to the bathroom."

Drip. Drip.

Her eyes widened in chagrin. "Right."

Drip. Drip.

"How stupid of me," she said with a forced laugh.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Draco was certain that she would be sprinting away by now to relieve herself from the awkward situation, but to his surprise she still stood in her position. He looked back up at her and saw her eyes wander as she chewed on her bottom lip. It appeared as if she was trying to come up with some sort of explanation. He then softened, and discerned that she knew that he knew about her going out of the way just to avoid him. Draco wanted an explanation. But not now while she was naked, soaked, and embarrassed.

Drip. Drip.

"Well go on before you flood the place," Draco stated playfully, giving a small smile.

Hermione looked down in horror at the small puddle she was creating. "Shite!" she exclaimed as she scrambled away from it. "I will clean that up as soon as I'm…"

She looked down at herself.

Drip. Drip.

Draco relieved her. "Dry?"

"I was going to say 'not resembling a wet hag' but that works too."

"You could never."

He saw her face turn red.

Drip. Drip.

"Thank you… and…well…"

Drip. Drip.

She bolted into her room and slammed the door before Draco could respond.

* * *

Harry sprawled himself out on Ron's bed, watching members of the Chudley Cannons perform tricks and amazing moves on posters that were strewn about on the walls of the bedroom. His glasses were askew so his vision was half blurred. But he didn't care; he was too exhausted to care.

Meanwhile, Ron was pacing the floor of his room, throwing out whatever suggestion for the Horcrux hunt he had to then be immediately shut down by Harry.

"The Room of Requirement?"

"Ron, we've looked through there for ages. Do you know how many old boots and books I've pointlessly stabbed with the sword?"

"Right. Well we could try Dumbledore's office. "

"Oh yeah! Because Voldemort would be barmy enough to hide a piece of his soul in the office of a wizard trying to annihilate him, not to mention the one wizard he's afraid of! Brilliant!"

Ron then muttered, "He could be hiding it in plain-"

"Plain sight?! Bloody hell, I doubt Voldemort would risk doing that nonsense," Harry interrupted.

"Nonsense or not, at least _I'm_ making suggestions instead of moping about!" Ron slumped onto the bed beside his friend, scratching his head. "Can't you do that mind connecting thing with Voldemort to see where the Horcruxes are?"

Harry sighed with exaggeration. "Ron, the problem with the 'mind connecting thing' is that it goes both ways; he'll know my thoughts too. I could reveal our location, Hermione's location, and loads of other things he can't know."

Ron went quiet for a beat and then asked, "Speaking of Hermione, how is she doing?"

"From her letters, she seems okay. She's found a way to keep the nightmares out."

"How?"

Harry smirked. "I'll tell you but you won't like it."

"Go on," Ron urged with an arched brow.

"She's sleeping with Aiden."

The redhead burst from the mattress. "WHAT?!"

"Told you."

"You're telling me that Hermione shagging Aiden- no, excuse me- DRACO BLOODY MALFOY keeps her from having bad dreams?!"

Harry failed to hold in his laughter as he watched his friend go off. His face was becoming as red as his hair as he ranted on.

Finally, the dark-haired boy gave in. "Calm down! They're only sleeping _next to_ each other; there's no shagging at all. Besides, it seems like she's trying to distance herself from him."

Ron sat back on the bed, heaving deep breaths. "That's a relief. But if she was in such a hurry to get back to him, why is she being distant?"

"Isn't it obvious? She's falling for him."

Ron screwed up his face in confusion. "Er, no. I don't think it's obvious at all."

"Oh come on, Ron! You know Hermione!" Harry sat up to explain himself. "When she fancies some bloke, she avoids him and hates talking to him… she pretty much treats him like shite."

"I know what you mean," Ron huffed. "But why? Seems counterproductive."

"Don't know. Maybe it's like a sort of defense mechanism in case he doesn't feel the same way. She doesn't really know where he stands so she avoids him to avoid getting hurt."

Ron meant to respond but two raps on the door followed by his mother's voice rang through. "Boys, you better come downstairs."

"Mum, we're busy!" Ron shouted back, rolling his eyes.

"Dumbledore's here for you."

The boys went silent and in a heartbeat left the room. As they were running down, Harry caught sight of his old Headmaster standing in the doorway. His eyes, along with their usual twinkle, held a sense of urgency.

Once they reached him, he turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you, Molly. We can take it from here."

The red-headed woman nodded and left the room swiftly.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Nothing, my boy! In fact, quite the opposite…" Dumbledore gestured to the living room and everyone sat down in front of the crackling fire.

Dumbledore leaned forward in his armchair, lowering his voice. "I've found a lead for the Horcrux hunt."

Harry and Ron instantly looked at each other with wide eyes and open mouths.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Ron cried.

Harry pressed the old wizard. "What is it?"

"That's not for _me_ to tell."

Four heavy knocks then pounded on the front door.

Dumbledore sprang up from his seat and opened it. "Ah! You made it!"

Harry and Ron walked over to the threshold and peered through. Their jaws fell as they beheld an extremely deformed man. He had a large black eye surrounded by warts that covered his face. He was mainly bald except for a few patches of hair and his back was hunched.

The boys quickly stepped back as the man stepped through. Through his grotesque features, he managed a genuine smile. Harry noticed a tattoo of a tree, completely blanketed with white roses, on his left forearm.

Dumbledore closed the door and then introduced him. "This is Adam."

* * *

"Good morning!"

Hermione jumped at the voice and almost dropped the soap, towel, and clothes (which she made sure she remembered) in her arms.

The witch then turned from her bedroom door to see Isabella. She somehow looked much older in her nighttime apparel. Her hair was in a loose braid instead of a high ponytail and she hugged a quilted shawl around her shoulders over her nightgown. But her warm expression remained unchanged.

"Oh, hi Isabella."

"What are you doing up so early?"

Hermione dodged the question. "I could ask you the same thing," she said, tucking a golden lock behind her ear.

The housekeeper smiled. "I always go up to the attic before dawn to watch the sunrise."

"Oh! Well I'll let you get to it then." Hermione made a break for it but Isabella caught her.

"Hermione," she started. "What's going on?"

Hermione, once again, attempted to evade the question. "I'm just going to the shower-"

"-You know what I mean." Isabella stared at the girl sternly.

Her cheeks instantly flushed.

"Is it that obvious?" Hermione mumbled, staring at the floor.

Isabella huffed. "That you avoid Aiden like the plague? Yes."

Hermione cringed and threw her face into the towel she was holding. "Oh Merlin," she whimpered, muffled by the fabric.

The housekeeper continued. "God, meals have become unbearable. They make me want to stab my eyes out, they're so awkward. You sit as far away from him as possible and the only time you speak to him is when you ask for the salt to be passed! Even William has noticed, and he's blind for God's-"

"-I know, I know, it's awful! I'm sorry," Hermione interrupted, tossing her belongings to the ground.

"You don't have to apologize," Isabella assured. "I just want to know what happened between you two. You used to not be able to get enough of each other and you even sleep together-"

"Hang on! You know about that?!"

"Everyone knows."

Hermione threw her arms in the air. "Merlin! And for your information, there is absolutely no shagging whatsoever!"

"Hermione, I could have guessed that from the way you shrug away from even the possibility of touching him. Now tell me, what's wrong?"

Hermione squinted her eyes and shook her head, praying that Isabella would eventually give up and leave. But they remained there for minutes and eventually she gave in. "It's just that this has become very _real_. I mean there's a chance that I have feelings for him."

Isabella's eyes lit up. "Really? Do you-"

"Yes… maybe… I don't know." Hermione could feel her ears turning pink. "Our dynamic turned from friends to... I suppose "more-than-friends" too quickly for me when we first kissed and it scared me. It _still_ scares me because I don't know where _he's_ at. And the more I think about it, I really don't know anything about him. I know his story and background but he's never really been completely vulnerable with me except for maybe one time in the past. And I know _I've_ been completely open with _him_. So I guess me being distant is a way to protect myself from jumping in before knowing if he's willing to do the same…"

All of a sudden, an uninvited image of a certain pale boy in a certain office came to her head. The witch paused and exhaled deeply. "…And I guess it's also because the last time I was in this situation, I ended up getting hurt."

The out of the blue memory of Draco Malfoy made her stomach ache.

Isabella listened intently to the golden-haired girl. When she was finished, the housekeeper quietly mused, "Hermione, have I ever told you about Adam?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Long-story-short, he's the love of my life. But I never told him, fearing that he didn't reciprocate my feelings. I let him slip through my fingers and now I'll never be able to see him again. Our lives could've been very different if I just took the chance."

"But did he love you back?"

"He did. Which I would've known sooner if I told him how I felt." Isabella put a hand on Hermione's cheek. "I know that you're just trying to protect yourself. But potentially getting hurt is much better than constantly asking yourself 'what if?'"

Hermione stared at Isabella and then gave a short nod. "Thank you… I'll think about what you said." She then collected her things and proceeded into the bathroom.

* * *

Once Isabella knew Hermione was out of earshot, she went straight for her bedroom door. She opened it to find Draco pressing his ear against the wall.

"We're done talking now so you can stop eavesdropping," she said, her voice startling Draco as he quickly stood up.

He cleared his throat and stood before the housekeeper like a child who was caught doing something wrong. "Right. Er, I should thank you."

"No, you shouldn't."

He looked taken aback. "Why?"

"I told Hermione to do her part so now you have to do yours," Isabella answered, crossing her arms.

Draco knitted his brows. "Which is what?"

"You _were_ eavesdropping, weren't you? Hermione said that you're not open with her."

"I try to be! I tell her my past-"

"-Relaying sob stories doesn't mean you're being vulnerable. Show her the real you!"

"You know, it's quite difficult to do that when I'm pretending to be someone I'm not!" Draco barked, gesturing to his face.

"Then be yourself; be Draco Malfoy."

Draco stood there and scoffed. "You know I can't do that."

"Yes you can. And you can do it without revealing who you really are." Isabella took a step forward. "Listen, she just wants you to be genuine about yourself. Let her know that you're willing to get hurt in this like she is."

She turned to leave but Draco called out to her. "Must you give a bloody long-winded lecture and life lesson to everyone in this house?"

Isabella shrugged. "I wouldn't if I didn't need to."

* * *

Later that day, Draco stood outside Hermione's door with a pack of bottled Butterbeers, hoping it could act as a conversation starter and perhaps their imbibement could help ease the tension.

He rapped on the door and heard a bright "Come in!"

Draco entered and saw Hermione with a snowy owl perched on her arm. "Oh, hello Aiden," she greeted timidly.

"Sorry to be a bother but I picked up some Butterbeers for you."

A grin spread across her face. "Thanks! Er, place them on my desk. I just need to get this letter out to Harry."

Draco did as he was told but he noticed crumpled pieces of parchment scattered across the surface. They appeared to be drafts of a letter; they all started out with "Dear Harry" followed by ink blotches and scratched out words. He couldn't help himself as he noticed that a certain scribbled out name kept appearing… It was his name. His _real_ name. Draco Malfoy.

He stood there stupidly with his mouth agape, reading his name over and over. Why was she thinking about him? And more importantly why was she writing to Potter about him?

Hermione then abruptly swiped the desktop and wadded up the parchments. "Sorry about that," she muttered, embarrassment hanging in her tone.

"No, I shouldn't have been snooping," he claimed, suddenly feeling a frog in his throat.

"Well it's hard not to," Hermione threw the drafts in the wastebasket, "when the name 'Draco Malfoy' is screaming at you on every page." She gave a small chuckle, obviously trying to appear nonchalant.

Draco then immediately popped open two Butterbeers, deciding that now was definitely the time to try to relieve tension. He handed one to Hermione and asked as casually as he could, "So who is this 'Draco Malfoy'?"

She grabbed the bottle with gratitude. "He's just some guy at Hogwarts," she took a sip, "and kind of a git actually."

Draco cleared his throat loudly. "Really?" He took a large swig, really feeling the frog in his throat now.

"Yeah, we were Head Boy and Girl. He was a part of this elaborate Death Eater infiltration to capture me. It failed, but he ended up leaving with the Death Eaters. I was writing to Harry about him to see if the Order has any leads on him," Hermione said. Draco could see that she was attempting to write off his mention in her letter as strictly business… and that she was failing.

"Well tell me about him," Draco proposed, preparing for the worst.

Hermione guffawed. "Where do I begin? Well, he'd tell you that he's the most amazing, attractive, and brilliant person on the planet. And of course, he wouldn't leave out the important fact that he comes from a powerful pureblood family. You think I'm joking but he actually announced this to the entire school during dinner!"

Draco forced out a laugh before he chugged his butterbeer, feeling his hands becoming clammy and his face becoming paler.

Hermione continued to laugh. "He was ridiculous," she took another sip, "but people fell for him-"

"-Did _you?"_

"-Not that _I_ did," she said at the same time.

Thick silence fell between the two. After a few moments, she filled it. "You know, every once in a while, you kind of remind me of him."

Draco coughed.

Hermione's eyes bulged. "Not that you're a git in any way!"

"No, no I get it," he replied, trying to appear unfazed.

"Really! I didn't mean…"

Silence fell again.

They both took a swig.

Hermione then moved the conversation forward. "Anyway, like I said, things were going fine and then Malfoy ran to the Death Eaters." She sighed. "It figures; the good girl falls for the bad boy."

This got Draco's attention. "Ah, so you _did_ fall for him."

Hermione contorted her face as it turned crimson. "You caught me," she confessed. "Did you bring these Butterbeers just so you can get me drunk and uncover my deepest, darkest, secrets?"

Draco chuckled. "Not at all! But why should you stop now?"

"Well, if you insist." Hermione sat at her desk and then said, "The mad thing is that I might have, kind of, sort of, actually thought he, a little bit, liked me-ish."

"Of course he does," he replied with a grin.

"Huh?"

Draco stammered, "I- I mean of course he _did._ " He prayed to Merlin that she didn't catch that.

She snickered. "Thanks but whether or not he ever did, he was an entirely different person than I thought he was. I was the girl that thought she could change the notorious Draco Malfoy and bring him to the light. I was so certain, in those moments where glimpses of vulnerability and good came through, that it could happen. But honestly, I didn't know him at all. And I ended up getting hurt in the end because I thought I did."

Draco watched this golden-haired girl, clutching a half-empty Butterbeer bottle, stare wistfully out the window as she finally revealed her feelings for the old Draco Malfoy. He wanted nothing more than to tell her that her time _wasn't_ wasted on him and she _did_ change him. But of course, he couldn't. And it hit him like a pang to the chest that she might never know.

It made Draco wince at the thought of Hermione having so much faith in him which he unknowingly tainted by being a prat to Millicent and getting cursed. Why the hell did he shut her out? What was he scared of?...

Vulnerability.

And that fear ended up pushing her away just as it is now. It was what made Hermione retreat back into herself, even after the moment they shared in the library. She bared all to him and he only bared a little. He needed to meet her halfway.

Hermione turned from the window to Draco. "So, you have any war stories you'd like to share?"

"I do." He held out his hand to her. She eyed it with caution but then eventually took it as it gently pulled her up.

"But not here," he said.

She raised her eyebrows, a question forming on her lips.

He smiled. "Do you want to go somewhere with me?"


End file.
